Inclination
by Smashed Sunshine
Summary: Chapter 10 up: Sequel to 'Tomorrows Yesterday'. Hermione Granger has a new life ahead of her and is trying to put behind her the past. That is until the past comes back to bite her...Will Draco let her slip through his fingers again?
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note: This is the sequel to another fiction I have written, 'Tomorrows Yesterday'. If you haven't read it then I suggest you do before going any further! I am told its very good. So here it is folks, what you all asked for. All I can hope for now is that you enjoy it, and don't hate me too much. Remember that not everything is as it seems!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter One**

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_Time flitters through the cosmos like grains of sand through an hour glass. Swift and silent as a bird's flight through the starry skies it goes. While most things change there is always a core that is unaffected by the swirls of alternation. It becomes almost forgotten in time but will reappear when you least expect it…_

Another day was dawning on the planet earth and magic sparked in the air. Christmas was fast approaching, creating an intense atmosphere that screamed excitement and expectance. Even the weather seemed to sense the change in mood as dark clouds began to hover over Britain, with the promise of its hidden treasures. Snow flakes would soon begin to tumble down from the sky in their thousands, each one carrying its own unique mark. The sharp north wind nipped at people walking in the streets, making their noses red and raw with cold. Soon the world would be plunged into the snowy torrents that only the young truly appreciate. This wasn't the only thing affected by the month though. Shops seemed to become crammed with the most tempting of presents, urging children to press their noses up against the glass windows and beg for Santa Clause to bring them what they desired. Adults seemed to become more active as the inevitability of a holiday loomed. All in all, the world was in an excited state of bliss. 

Hermione noticed all of this as she weaved her way along Diagon Alley and it was hardly surprising with the number of Christmas trees and moving Santa's about. Yet in her mind it all seemed trivial to the one thing she had her mind on. All through her life Hermione had dedicated herself to her own education and making sure she was better then the best. She had strived hard to get where she was going but finally all of it had been paid off. An offer had been made after 3 months of waiting. Hopefully, she thought, they would give her the job on the grounds she was on first name speaking terms with the boss already. A blush crept about her cheeks at her own self indulgence. A lot of people would be trying to get their hands on this one, but she was damned if she was going to give it away without a fight. And this is where that fight would begin, in a small clothes shop on Diagon Alley. 

Something her father had always said was that first impressions meant a lot in the modern world and Hermione agreed. New robes were in order. What she had in mind was something plain and simple, yet classy, all at the same time. The object of her present desire was hung neatly on the wall and was the deepest purple. The folds seemed like liquid and had the tiniest silver stitching along the edges. A sigh escaped her lips as she ran her fingers over the velveteen material. Like a wand chose its owner so did robes, and this one was the one for her. Her fingers almost instantaneously went to her bag where she fished out a tiny pouch. Within it was the allowance she had set herself, also just enough to buy her the new robes. Quickly purchasing it before guilt settled in she dashed out of the shop. 

Now she stood alone amongst the hustle and bustle of happy people, each one in their own bubble of reality. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes to savour the moment. It would be the only moment she would ever have in that place at that time, and only recently had she realised how important it really was to be alive. Only months ago had she nearly lost her dearest friend to the darkness of death.

Even though Christmas was here, and the Witching world tried to forget their problems, there was that underlying fear that Voldemort would kill them. If not them then someone close to them. There was a fear that when someone casually said, 'see you tomorrow', they wouldn't. The Muggle world may have their terrorists, but what was rising in power was so much worse. A shadow would soon be cast over the earth and the sun would scorch the skies. Hermione shivered at the thought. It had been those brave Auror's fighting the Death Eaters that had held off the battle this long. Again she shivered; it was like someone walking over her grave. Ron had almost died in a duel with Voldemort himself, and the memory of his battered body was still too raw in her mind.

As someone crashed into her and mumbled about 'people these days', she was pulled away from the horrific thoughts infecting her mind. Taking a deep breath she stepped forward, straight into a puddle. The water splashed up her legs, releasing a growl from Hermione. 

This was going to be one of those days.

***

'Hmm…'

The familiar, yet ominous, rustle of paper sounded like a fog horn in the silence. Then there were the critical noises made by a man in deep thought. It had always confused her as to why anyone would have to make noises like a cow when reading. Through all of this though, she kept a perfect smile on her face. It said, 'Hire me, I'm the best person you could get'. At least that's what Hermione hoped it said. In reality it was more likely to look like the pathetic smile of a woman anticipating rejection. Self confidence had never been one of her strong points. Even when she succeeded the best, she felt she could have done better. Some people would say she set her aims too high, but she said that that was the only way to get through in a world full of obstacles. 

'Well Miss Granger, in light of this…glowing reference, I consider you to be one of our highest candidates.'

Hermione felt her pulse quicken, and she held her breath in anticipation. This was the job of her dreams and she would kill for it. Well, she reconsidered, maybe not kill but definitely seriously maim. Inwardly she tutted herself, but her inner devil only giggled in delight. She allowed herself a broader smile. 

'We'll be in contact with you within the week Miss Granger. Hopefully then we should have come to the final decision…It's so difficult having to choose a successor for poor Professor Johansson,' the man said with a resigning sigh. 

'Yes,' Hermione said softly, 'I heard about that. It was terrible.'

'Very much so, Miss Granger. Then again the teachers of Defence against the Dark Arts never do last that long…' he trailed off at the strained look on Hermione's face. 'Not that I'm saying such things will happen to you if you get the position.'

'Of course not Professor Flitwick, I understand what you mean,' Hermione said with a smile.

'Bless you my child,' Flitwick said with a smug look. 'Hogwarts would be more the better for a young face like yours around. Especially one so familiar with the school! How many years has it been now?'

'About five I think. A lot's changed though.' 

'Ah yes. Dark times are upon us. Yes, yes. Changed indeed,' Flitwick muttered, a look of deep thought upon his old face. 'Well Miss Granger, I think I'm finished here.' 

Hermione nodded. It had been hard on the school since the war had begun. Many teachers had fallen at the will of Voldemort in an attempt to corrupt Hogwarts. Still Dumbledore reigned though, and it seemed to be the only safe haven in a world full of tragedies. Hogwarts was as pure as the day Hermione had joined, all those years ago. Looking around the interview room now, she was reminded of a time that seemed almost lost in itself. A time when she had been so happy and content with the childish ways of her own world. 

'Professor?' she called to a receding Flitwick.

'Yes Miss Granger?' Flitwick said, turning towards her. Even with age his eyes twinkled with untold treasures and Hermione couldn't help but feel more at peace in his presence. 

'I was just wondering if I could possibly…'

'Why Miss Granger! I thought you would never ask! Of course you may explore your old haunts. Have fun and Merry Christmas!' Flitwick said before shooting off.

She smiled happily to herself and considered all the places she could visit with all this power she now had. In an instant she knew the exact place she wanted to be, and sadness seemed to sweep over her. Memories were all she had of that lost time, and now was an opportunity to relive them. The problem was she feared opening old wounds. 

***

Maybe it was the way the wind blew her hair so it was blurring her vision, or maybe it was her over active imagination. Whatever it was, Hermione felt for a split second like she had been transported back to that time and place. A time when she had thought herself to be madly in love, when hormones raged and what you wanted wasn't always what you got. She remembered in vivid Technicolor exactly what that thing she had wanted, or at least what she had wanted it to be. Maybe she had been in love, but it was more likely that she was only in love with the idea. There was no possible way a girl of that age could understand love. Hermione was almost sure of this, but at the time it had all been so real. 

The place was all too raw a memory for Hermione. She couldn't quite understand why now, but in her adolescence she had often come here just to remember. It was a sweeping willow with a small bench placed strategically under its branches. In her mind it had been a lot more romantic, but seeing it through her adult eyes, she wasn't too sure. It had been here where she had first learnt what it was like to hear the words 'I love you'. It was here where she had learnt that you could hate and love at the same time, with the same passion. Hermione let herself drop onto the small bench and closed her eyes. 

_'If your friends ever found out about us, then it would hurt you. I don't know the exact reaction but I'm willing to bet that they wouldn't be too happy. I don't want to jeopardise your relationship with them. Hurting you would kill me.'_

At the time it had seemed far from serious, but it was. Eventually he had hurt her though, and now she barely thought of him. Draco Malfoy had been as evil as a snake and as stubborn as a mule. When he saw things he wanted, he took them. He had stolen her heart among other things, and she had done nothing to stop him. In fact she had begged him too. It had been so wonderful a feeling, like flying. Draco Malfoy was nothing but a memory now though. Hermione hadn't seen him since that night they had spent together even though she had tried. 

Once she had snuck out late at night just to wander round the corridors aimlessly. She had hoped upon hope that he would find her. Then he would hold her, tell her he loved her and kiss her until she believed it. A wan smile played about her face. Even now she had to admit it had been an exciting fling. Maybe if it hadn't of happened she wouldn't be in the place she was now. Now was a good place in all respects. She had a lovely little maisonette in London, nearly the perfect job, great friends and…Oliver.

Oliver Wood had come into her life when she was most innocent. After having left school, she was vulnerable to the world and especially to men. Little experience of men outside of Hogwarts and her own group of friends, had led her into a relationship with a man called Norman. He wasn't the most exciting guy in the world, but he had been secure and a huge change from her previous lover. In all honesty Hermione was kidding herself; Norman practically collected brown paper bags. So when she met Oliver she instantly jumped at the chance of someone new. He seemed to feel the same way and soon they were great friends. When Norman had split up with her because he wanted someone else called Fredericka, it had been Oliver who comforted her. Soon this comforting had led to other places. 

In Hermione's eyes he was the perfect man. He was good looking in a modest way, played as Keeper for one of the Wizarding Worlds greatest Quidditch teams, and loved her truly. Even when he was surrounded by other women, he would always keep his eyes on her, and she couldn't help but smile whenever they were together. They had only ever had one hiccup and that had been remedied with Oliver serenading her. Now they were planning on moving in to a bigger house together. Secretly she was hoping that he would bend on one knee and propose.

Coming back to the now she sighed. It was pointless thinking about the past when the present held so much more for her. Draco Malfoy might be part of her past, but she needed to let that memory rest in peace. Smiling sadly she stood up and looked around. Letting her eyes drop close she surrendered to the memory of his arms around her. Wrapping her arms round herself, she rocked slightly. All the denial in the world couldn't cover up her regret for loosing that moment. 

_…and it won't seem the same. Left over time your mind begins to harden to the fantasies of the world. Your childish whims seem inferior to what you think now. You believe that you were wrong then and are right now. That core will still be there though, undiscovered and lying in wait. It waits for the morning sun to rise over the horizon and for that little inclination to resurface. _

**Author's Note 2: I know what your all thinking! What happened to Draco? Why is Hermione being so bitchy about the past? Oliver?! Well my friends all will hopefully be revealed later. I hope you enjoyed it, and ****review!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **Here I am again with the second chapter. It might have taken a while with me missing my mock examinations due to flu and still not being able to catch up. I hoped that my authors note would be apology enough for my readers, but obviously this wasn't so. To **hp1fan, **I feel I made myself perfectly clear in the summary that the authors note would not be a second chapter. I would also like to say that I do not disagree with you and that that was the point of the note. I cannot and will not be bullied into forcing a work of creative art. If this annoys you then I apologise. 

**Acknowledgements: **Firstly I would like to thank all the readers who have bared with me! I can be so slow sometimes! **Princess Aiko – **Ginny got worked up about Hermione and Draco so confronted Draco about it. He probably insulted her and upset her. To cover everything up, Draco let recover in his bed.  **NightMoth – We'll have to see about Oliver and your theory… ****JessicaLWriter – I'm glad you like it so much! To **EVERYONE **else who reviewed, thank you again. This also counts for the reviewers of 'Tomorrows Yesterday'.**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a thing.

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter Two**

_A person is made up of their past present and future. The question is which is the most influential of them all? Can it be that the past is constantly controlling your future? Would it be possible to change the present if you made a different decision? All these questions have thousands of answers and each one is out of reach for our complicated minds. Fate moves in mysterious ways…_

Toast crumbs. They had that awful habit of getting everywhere. On your clothes, between your teeth and especially in the bed sheets. Hermione felt like the Princess with the pea. Where ever she moved there was that rough feeling of tiny toast crumbs rubbing against her skin. In some ways it was annoying, but in others it was satisfactory. She thought this was probably due to the fact that someone cared enough about her to bring her breakfast in bed. Then again, she considered, it was far from breakfast at this time. Instead she settled herself with the idea of brunch. 

She looked out across the room and shivered slightly. The winter air had somehow drifted through the warmth of her bedroom and climbed into bed with her. Quickly she pulled her covers further around her sleek body and tucked it underneath her just to make sure she would remain warm. Her eyes darted to the window that was on the wall opposite to where she sat on the bed. Outside the world was humming with business as usual and Hermione was struck with a longing to be part of it all. She wanted to be part of the adult world, yet at the age of 22 she still didn't feel truly a part of it all. Of course there had been those times where her connection with Harry had meant she was seen as a very important and learned person, but it was nothing compared to her friend himself.

Ever since the day his parents were killed by Voldemort, Harry had been on a blood mission to avenge the deaths of his family and cleanse the world of evil. It might have been an unknown quest at the beginning, but now it was his life. He had fought everyday to overcome the darkness that was trying to strangle his life, but little had changed since the day he began. Evil, it seemed, had a will of its own. It corrupted the minds of good people and made them part of the war. Harry had strived to be ready at every possible point. He'd become a master at duelling, skilled with a broom and wand, but most of all he had become a leader. People looked up to him and anyone associated with him was thought to be somehow blessed and special. 

It was difficult to live in a world where your name was of no relevance, but who you associated was. She found she had the same difficulty with being Oliver's girlfriend. Constantly there would be women (and men) swarming round him as if they were bees to the honey pot. In her mind that was what Oliver represented to her and the rest of the female population. A honey pot. He was sweet, loving and when he made a decision he stuck to it like glue. He was the best companion a girl could have and the added bonus of having a sex god for a boyfriend was just an added bonus. No one knew her real name but referred to her as 'Oliver Wood's girl'. She knew it wasn't his fault but she couldn't help hating him at times.

'Having a nice day dream?' 

She looked up towards the door to see the man of the moment, and smiled slightly. He was leaning against the frame of the door with nothing but a towel to keep the cold off his body. That was the annoying thing about having a drop dead sexy man sharing your bed. He always looked good! Even being soaking wet and having his hair sticking out in every which way he looked like a dream. The annoying thing about it was that it didn't make Hermione feel at all attractive or sexy in any way. In fact it made her feel obese in his presence.  

Oliver smiled slightly and made his way across the room to her. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare at half naked young men, unless you intend on joining him in his state of dress?'

'I was taught that it was rude to drip water on another person's carpet,' she retorted playfully, 'unlike some people around here!' 

This was one of the things she loved about being around Oliver, which made the bad things seem insignificant. If you took away the media surrounding him, he was a great person to be around. He made her feel so happy with his pointless banter and the way he read her like a book was amazingly attractive. Whenever she was feeling under the weather for any reason, he would never have to ask what was wrong. Instead he would go out to the shops and buy cobias amounts of chocolate a coffee. Then he would carry her to the sitting room, snuggle her in a blanket and put a Muggle movie called 'Dirty Dancing' on. Every time it worked like a dream and left her feeling content. 

'So Miss Granger, what are you going to be doing for the rest of your lazy Sunday?' he asked in his gorgeous Scottish accent.

'Well I was thinking about getting some more preparation done in case they offer me the job at Hogwarts.' She sighed slightly. 'It's been a week now and still I haven't heard word of whether that jobs mine! It's driving me insane.'

'Calm down pet. You and I both know you're the best of the best and not choosing you would be taking second best.' 

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his faith in her. 'You'd better be right Mr Wood or there is going to be some serious making it up to be done.' 

'Well if you put it like that Miss Granger I'll be going to tell Dumbledore that he can't have you because your mine and that if he'd been quicker he might have been in with a slim chance of taking you away from my grubby mitts.' Oliver said in a smooth playful tone. 

With a scowl, she reached up and slapped his arm. 'That's Professor Granger to you Mr Wood.' 

Laughter echoed through the cosy little room. Sometimes Hermione wondered if things with Oliver were too good to be true. When they were together everything they did seemed to coincide with what the other was doing. Even though they'd been dating for some time now he still treated her as if it was something new and exciting. She never felt unappreciated or suspected him of having an affair because he seemed entirely dedicated to her. They could talk for hours on end without getting tired of each others company. It all seemed too much like it had just been extracted from a sixties Muggle film where everything was too happy and content.

'So 'Mione, how do you like the idea of spending a day in bed with your humble slave?' Oliver mumbled as he bent down and kissed her bare shoulder. 

'That's mistress to you,' she quipped before yanking him down on to the bed.

***

Owls weren't the most intelligent of creatures, but they knew when something important was happening around them. It might have been the hysterical shriek that drew this particular owls' attention first, or it could have been the way he had been manhandled. Either way he knew that the object attached to his leg must have held good information because the deformed ape like creature started dancing around. The owl wasn't complaining of course but he would have preferred it gave him some food and stopped playing silly beggars. He watched it in a bored fashion as time ticked by slowly. There was only one thing left to do. Screech or attack its head when it wasn't looking. The owl considered things over in an orderly fashion, its mind moving like clockwork. 

Then before it could come to his final decision, he got a beak full of seed and was shooed off the window. His last thoughts before leaving the house were that it could have at least damn waited till he had come to a decision!

***

Hermione was officially panicking. It had been three days since she had received the owl informing her of her job at Hogwarts and now she was counting the days till she began. That day would be today as Dumbledore wanted her to take the post as soon as possible. This meant that Hermione was in a panic about if she'd packed everything, whether anyone would hate her, what Oliver would do without her and mostly what impression she would have on the new generation of people she would be teaching.

Teaching had always seemed incredible in her eyes. It was amazing how she could always remember her teachers vividly. Not all of them had been as nice and understanding as some, but all of them had made an impact on her life. By becoming a teacher she hoped to inspire the same knowledge that these people had done in hers. She wanted to be remembered in years to come as someone's favourite teacher. Maybe even get an apple on her desk. Then again the youth of today were not as they had been when she was a teenager. That though seemed miles away from the life she had now.

Often when it came to Hermione's ability to teach, she would look back at how it had all been when she'd been there. It was impossible to remember everything and all the things she tended to remember were bad. There was the troll way back in the first year, encounters with Voldemort and the death of Cedric along with many other fellow students. There had been so many bad experiences that she found it hard to remember the good ones. All she had left was a link to what she remembered. There was Harry and dear old Ron. Both of whom seemed exactly the same as the day she had met them. Hermione though felt far different to the little girl who held her nose up in the air at everything.

A lot had happened to change her. 

Looking around the sitting room, she counted up her luggage bags. Three in total. She recounted and ticked the list in front of her. Sometimes it was difficult being so organised and Oliver wasn't making things much easier. All he wanted to do was keep her in bed, which was no way to prepare to leave the house for a couple of months. She had put down his offers gently and tried to get him out of the house while she packed. Oliver being Oliver though had offered to help. Hermione loved the man dearly but he couldn't half be a nuisance at the best of times.

Finally she had got everything together though and now it was time to leave her house. In all aspects she wouldn't be that long away from the little maisonette, but it would seem like forever. Hogwarts had a habit of sucking a person in and making them feel at home. It would never be her home though and it made her close to tears even thinking about it.

'Now, you will remember to check that I don't have squatters wouldn't you? Oh and my plants will need watering at least every couple of days! Also, when you do move you things in, can you make sure you put things neatly. I know it may seem stupid but I like my home to look respectable even when I'm not in it.' She bustled round the sitting room, collecting her boots and recounting the luggage again.

'Yes Miss.' Oliver said solemnly.

'If you shirk any, I repeat ANY, of these things I will know. And then Oliver, I will come down on you like a tonne of magical bricks. Do I make myself clear?' By this time she was standing right in front of him, waving a finger under his nose.

'As clear as day.' He smiled slightly and kissed her nose. 'Relax.'

'Relax?! I'd like to see you try and relax under all this pressure!'

'You seem to be forgetting that I'm not the only one that's going to be away from home.' He took her hands in his and kissed them gently. 'Wherever you go is home to me 'Mione and you'll be far away.' 

A sigh escaped her lips. She had forgotten entirely about Oliver personally. It was her who was leaving him for a career! Even when he went to Quidditch matches overseas, he called her every night. He was constantly making sure she knew what she meant to him. Now though, he wouldn't be able to see her everyday. The sleepy Sunday mornings lying in bed wouldn't happen. All they could do was occasionally meet up in Hogsmede and send owls to each other. She bit into her lips and pushed back the thoughts.

'I love you, you know that?' Hermione said through everything she felt.

'And I love you too.' That was all it took for her to feel safe and secure. He smiled slightly and hugged her. 'I will come and see you. It's only a couple of months before you can come back and clean! Don't cry.'

 It wasn't the time to cry though. She had to be in Hogsmede by eleven and then take a coach to Hogwarts. It would be a long and tiring ride, but at the end she would have everything she had ever hoped for. A job that would give her everything a love life couldn't. She would meet new people and love every moment of it. It would be sad to have to leave Oliver but it had to be done. Now was the time to do it.

A single tear was all she shed as they said their goodbyes, with bitter sweet kisses.

***

It was amazing how much rain a single cloud could hold. Each drop seemed like a golden penny compared to the light fluffy beings that roamed the skies. What was also amazing was how Hogwarts had a tendency to make the weather seem like so much more then mere weather. It was a gift from the heavens and something to be treasured. Not everyone would be able to appreciate the skies again, or feel a rain drop run down their nose. Not everyone would wake up at the end of the night, instead fade away to nothing. Fights were fought and people died. Still though the world kept turning and the weather kept happening. They never seemed to notice the suffering of the world below. And still it rained.

Hermione looked up at the roof of the carriage she was in and wondered why it was rain always made her feel more alive. Most of her happiest and saddest memories centred on the tiny droplets of water that fell from the sky. She sighed blissfully as the pitter patter turned into applause from the heavens. It seemed so familiar but she couldn't put her finger on why.

Glancing out the window she noticed the towers of Hogwarts looming into view and she felt a flutter in her stomach. Even after all this time she couldn't help the nervous excitement that hit her on that first glimpse. Mixed with the atmosphere the rain was causing, she felt both happy and sad at the same time. Irony had played her another hand and she was returning to the place that holds the most memories for her. 

'Rain…' she murmured as her mind began to whirl with the thoughts of the last memorable time she had stood out in the rain. She had been seventeen and the world had seemed far too unimportant when compared to her own life. The night had been heavy with magic floating through the air and the castle had been filled with the music of drumming. She had lain in bed for what seemed like hours, just listening. Something though had felt out of place. Her skin had itched for her to go out into the storm that was building and release the ache that was building up in her. Eventually she had given in. 

Without even changing into suitable clothes, Hermione had done something that was beyond her usual character. She had been reckless and instead of doing the sensible thing, she had followed her heart. It wanted to feel the same way it had done that night she had first met Draco. The boy with more layers then an onion and too many complications to count. It wanted to feel his fingers run through her hair. The sweet whisperings of his breath on her neck. The delicate kiss upon her cold lips. She ached so badly for him that it was killing her softly. Hermione felt dead to the world and betrayed by everything her body was feeling. This though hadn't held her back as she had run into the rain in her pyjamas.

The carriage juddered to a halt, pulling her away from the memories that where eating through her. It wasn't good to dwell, she thought as she looked up at the castle. It wasn't as if it was going to change anything. The past could never be changed and she wasn't even sure she would try if she could. Now was a good place, she reassured herself. 

Soon she was out of the warmth of the small confinement and in the rain. It seeped into her robes in heavy drops, making her pause and close her eyes. This though was also ripped away from her as she was bustled by a house elf carrying her bags into the house. Her eyes followed the small creature and registered that she should thank him later. Then suddenly, as if remembering what she was doing, she shook herself and walked into the castle. Its doors wide open and welcoming.

'Ah! Professor Granger!' 

Hermione smiled brightly and walked over to the source of the voice. This man represented everything she held dear and was her Idol. For these things she loved him dearly. 'Hello Albus.'  

Dumbledore smiled slightly and she felt the familiar tug of her heart strings. When she had first started at Hogwarts, she had been in awe of this great man she had read so much about. He was feared, respected and loved by the world and had a Santa Clause charm to him. Hermione had known instantly that this was going to be a safe place for her to be. None of the evil would reach her as long as Dumbledore was in charge.

'It's delightful to see you again Miss Granger,' He said gently. 'Your arrival has been expected and anticipated with much pleasure.'

'Thank you. I have to say it's been the same for me.'

'Of course, of course!' A smile graced his lips. 'Now all we have to do is wait for the second carriage and then I can show you to your new room and study. Oh, you don't mind waiting do you?'

'A second carriage?' she frowned as the words left her lips. 'Is there a new member of staff arriving too? I just got the impression there was only one job available when I enquired.'

'Oh yes, well you see, this job was intended to be available.' He smiled sadly and Hermione remembered that there was a war going on. Hogwarts was a major target for Voldemort and his armies. 'Severus was…called away on an act of national importance. We had to replace him quickly with his…trainee. I think that's the right way to put it.'

'Oh…I didn't know Professor Snape had a trainee. Who is it?' She asked politely, the inquisitive side of her getting the better.

'That would be me.'

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as the new voice reached her ears. The moment she turned to confirm her fears, the world stop turning and she was caught in a moment. Tempestuous grey eyes gazed back into hers.

_…sometimes its all for the better and sometimes its all for the worse. Yet constantly it's working to make your life better. At the time you might not be able to see through the haze of pain and misery. In fact it might take years just to regain that moment of happiness that makes you whole and complete again. It may look bleak but nothing is never as it seems as the memories are forced to the surface._


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's note: **So I'm back, with another chapter. I have to say sorry for the delay and for the fact that there is not much action in this chapter. I feel it necessary to build up the relationships though, so when I come to knocking them down you can see the differences. Passion and all that! Anyway, hope you enjoy!

**Acknowledgement: **Firstly to **HermioneG89 – **I think that's the biggest compliment to my writing that I might ever have had. Thank you! To **BlackCat**** – Don't worry! I like Oliver too, so he won't be too much of a loser by the end. Finally to everyone else – ****Thank you! There are too many to mention, so I hope that suffices. **

**Disclaimer: **Only the words are mine. Also, for everyone who keeps asking, I do write the italic bits at the beginning and end of every chapter! I don't steal them from other people. 

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter Two**

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_Appreciation is something can be gathered in time or something that is instantaneous, but most things never fully get it at all. Colour can only be appreciated truly by the blind man that lives in darkness. Sounds only ever considered important by the deaf to the world. Sight and sound are things often taken for granted by the greatest of minds. When it comes down to it though, the simplest things can be the singular most important. Sometimes though things can be over analysed…_

It was amazing how time affected the human body. It had been five years since Draco had last set eyes upon Hermione Granger. Well, he conceded inwardly, it probably been as long as that with all the pictures in the newspapers. Even though they were discreet images of her, she stood out far more then that dim witted boyfriend of hers. He bit back the pang of jealousy quickly. It had been a long time since he had had any right to feel anything more then indifference towards her.

Looking at her now though, without the glare of the camera, e could see that she had been treated well by time. Her hair was a little longer, but still in the same style. Her nose still curled slightly towards the end, which added to her look of general intelligence. Her body…he smiled slightly to himself. Well, that had changed quite a bit. She had filled out and developed gentle curves, which hadn't surfaced till after she'd left school. Draco glanced back up into her eyes. They held a different story all together.

Hermione had never been an expert in hiding her emotions but when she did it was always her eyes that deceived her. Unlike him, she hadn't been taught from an early age that emotion was a weakness that could destroy you. She was lucky in the respect, yet unlucky that to Draco she was like an open book. He itched to turn the pages and read the rest, but realised that to do so would be too intimate. 

They were dark pools of chocolate that seemed so gentle and calm, he thought to himself. Then again, he considered, she was not everything she appeared to be. She was a bomb just waiting to explode. It would never happen though. None of her boring friends or colleagues would ever be able to spark that reaction. They had neither the guts nor the stamina. Hermione would never know the full extent of how it was to be alive in the world.

Then again, neither would he. 

'I apologise for my late arrival Professor,' he said in a smooth voice, 'I fear that I was delayed a little by a storm.'

'Ah well Draco, you should know by now what the weather can be like at Hogwarts.' Something sparkled in his eye, making Draco wonder how much the old fuddy duddy really did know.

He had never been a big fan of education. It had been something forced upon him, which had to be tolerated until he came of age. An age where he would be able to be the cat that got the cream, and could live of Daddy's money. This had never happened though. Expectations were held for the only child and they were to be met or he would feel the circumstances. 

Inevitably though, when it had come down to the crunch, Lucius needed him. He needed him more then Draco could ever imagine. So, being the Malfoy that he was, he had used it to his advantage. He had bent the rules and done something that no one expected of him, but no one was surprised by. Draco did as he was told.

'I expect you already know Professor Granger here,' Dumbledore said with a swift gesture of his arm. 'I do believe you were in the same year. Then again my memory may be failing me.' He smiled gently at the two of them.

Draco averted his eyes back to Hermione and smiled charmingly. Her brow was drawn down into a frown, with her bottom lip formed in a confused look. This was obviously the last thing she had been expecting. He smiled. It was nice to have the upper hand in these matters.

Taking her hand, he bowed and gently kissed it, letting his gaze stay constant upon her face. 'Nice to see you again Granger,' he drawled in the same familiar tone.

'I never knew you got a position as Snape's trainee.' Hermione said simply. There was no greeting, no recognition of their time together, just a bitterness that seemed to be rooted by memory and forgotten by will. 

'There's a lot you don't know,' he replied with a whispered ease.

Dumbledore looked between the two with certain unease. Even Draco had to admit that there was a noticeable tension between the two of them. Ah the irony of it all, he thought. Hermione had been the woman who had haunted him throughout his five years away from Hogwarts. Now that he was back, so was she. It was like history was giving him another chance to take back the only person he had ever been able to really say he loved. This thought was quickly shooed away though. He was here on business, not on a mission to relive some long gone dream. Severus would be none too pleased if he failed because he let his inactive heart get in the way.

'I'd better show you both to your quarters. I'm afraid that age is taking its toll on an old mans ability to keep up with all you young people.' Dumbledore's voice cut in to his thoughts. 

'I wouldn't worry Professor. I'm sure you'll outlive us all,' Draco replied grimly.

Dumbledore looked away sadly. He knew too well the underlining statement of his words. In some ways Draco pitied him for the knowledge. It must be difficult knowing that death had the upper hand in taking away the children you had brought up. Not many people would ever know though the fear that knowledge held. They seeked it out until they met their graves when really it had been pointless in the first place.

Draco himself had once searched for that greater truth. The meaning to a life he didn't particularly want to take part in. It had come to no avail though. In the end he had just lay back and realised that it was probably all sex, and that love had nothing to do with it. He found it comforting as he could get plenty of sex, but only one woman he loved. The pleasure outbalanced the pain.

'Come this way then…mind the puddles of water Miss Granger…' 

They were led through the main hall, and out a small door located at the back. Draco busied himself with noting down every move they made so he could recall his steps. Hermione on the other hand looked around in awe. He scoffed inwardly, it hadn't been that long since she'd seen it and yet she was acting like a small child on their first trip. 

To their left was a grand staircase that seemed to reach up higher then any of the others. It was with struggling breaths that they finally managed to reach the top and were confronted by nothingness. He looked around uncertain. It had been said that Dumbledore had a lot of tricks up his sleeves, but maintaining invisible quarters within the school would have taken too much magic. His eyes seeked some form of deception, when suddenly Dumbledore clicked his fingers and a bridge appeared.

'It's like the bible gone wrong,' he muttered as he followed the example of the other teachers. 

Once they'd got across the bridge there was a long corridor with lots of rooms leading off. Hermione was frowning slightly. Probably wondering about the fire hazards, he thought bitterly. Or how she can smuggle that cheap boyfriend in! He bit back his sudden urge to tell her what he thought of her and continued to follow the others. His time would come when he would have to speak to her about certain flaws in their relationship. 

'Now these two rooms are yours. Seeing as you're both of the same age, I thought you might appreciate the company of one another….' Dumbledore began in his sturdy voice.

'But Professor! Severus informed me that I was to have his lodgings so I could…use his recourses to the best of my ability. To not give me this access would be limiting my ability to teach his classes!' Draco intoned in a voice that was too calm. Many had come to see it as a deadly calm that came before the storm, and he didn't blame them. Even he knew he was formidable and not many had the guts to cross the line.

'Calm yourself Draco. You shall have access, but I believe that Severus would not like you changing his room to suit your needs.' His voice seemed to gather an edge of knowing. 'After all, he isn't going to be gone forever.' 

'You and I both know that the chances of his returning now are very slim,' Draco said quietly, in the hope that no one would hear. 'It would seem you are going to be stuck with me for some time.'

'Professor Malfoy, your lack of faith in Severus disappoints me.' Dumbledore said sternly. 'Fate has not yet been decided.'

'With all respects, sir,' he said tightly, 'I feel that as I was instructed to do so, I should take up residence immediately.'

'I know your feelings Draco and they have been taken into account. I on the other hand will play no part in signing his death sentence before he is even dead. That is my final word.' 

With that Dumbledore swept away, leaving only a graceful smile upon Hermione, who was watching the whole event unfold with great interest. He turned to face her and ran a hand through his hair. In turn, her eyes seemed to roam his face and his body. She was probably either sizing him up, or noting all the differences, and there had been a lot of those.

For one, Draco's long silver blonde hair touched his shoulders in graceful curves. His face was not as pale as it had been once, even though he'd seen enough horrors to last him a lifetime. His body had filled out with intensive training, of which had been compulsory for the job he had required. He had grown a couple of inches taller and she seemed lower to the ground then she had. No longer was he the lanky brat who made people's lives a misery. He was the well built bastard, who could make your life hell at the drop of a hat. 

'Checking to see what you're missing out on Granger? I'm not surprised by the look of that boyfriend of yours again. What was his name again…oh yes, Ollie Wood.' He couldn't help it. Looking at her and feeling the stirring of old emotions, just made him want to insult her life and make her feel like dirt in the progress. 

'Oliver,' she corrected primly, hurt showing in her eyes. 'And actually I was determining how much uglier you looked then last time we saw each other.'

He smirked. 'As I recall Granger, you weren't complaining about my looks last time you saw me.'

The blush rose up on her cheeks, reminding him of all the times he'd kissed her. He stopped that thought. There was no way he was going to allow himself to become emotionally involved with her again. It had been difficult enough turning away from the bright colours she had bled into his being, without having to see them again. The reds of his passion were too vivid and bright. 

'Yes well, that was in the past. A lot has changed now.' Hermione said unsteadily. 'I've changed now.'

He regarded her intently. Summing her up, he concluded that nothing had changed about her at all. She was probably still a control freak, who passed every test, dotted every 'I' and kept her clothes in order of colour. She probably still even hung around Potter and Weasel, never actually making a name for herself but letting them take the glory. It had been her brain behind their actions and without her they would have been lost. What had they done in return? Grown up and discovered a life beyond the three of them. 

'Actually I don't think you have. I think you're still the same thrill seeker, who restrains herself because of her own urge to please others.' He said snidely. 'In fact I think that you are only here, doing this, because you think that by doing it, you'll have made yourself a name. You'll always be that teacher who taught Defence of the Dark Arts for a few months. Maybe it'll be longer. Who knows?' 

'You have no right to say those things to me!' she said angrily.

'No, you're probably right. It's a little late now though, don't you think.' Sharply, he pushed open his door and sent his luggage flying in with a point of his wand. 'Now if you don't mind, I have things that are actually more important then mooning over my boyfriend.' 

He turned to leave, but was pulled back by a tight grip on his arm. Turning his head a fraction, he looked down at Hermione. Her face was contorted in anger, which only made him smile more. This was the Hermione he had pined for since he'd left. This was the woman who had seduced him by doing nothing at all. It wasn't the woman who organised her books alphabetically and thought she was better then him. It was the woman who knew she was better then him.

'Don't you dare think you can push me around Malfoy,' she said in what was almost a snarl. 'I don't deserve it.'

Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead gently. 

'No one deserves anything they get. It just happens.' And with that he was gone. 

_…and you realise that it doesn't matter what you're looking for. It doesn't matter if you haven't got everything you wanted. You should want everything you have because that is the only real way to be happy. Human nature though does not play this tune though, making sure that no one will ever be truly happy or content. They will swing from one dream to another until they meet the end. Then what is left? It's the memories that make the man. _

**Author's Note 2: **Hmmm, what do you all think so far? I tried not to make it boring! You know what to do.


	4. Chapter Four

**Authors Note: **Sorry this chapter has taken so long. Right now I should be revising for my chemistry exam but I kept hearing the call of the story. So this is my release. It's a little complicated but I hope it doesn't confuse you too much. This is another chapter from the point of view from Draco. Not much of Hermione, I'm afraid. But there is someone new and exciting. I hope you enjoy…

**Acknowledgements: **Thank you for all the praise and support you've given me in reviews. You know who you are and hopefully these lives up to expectations.

**Disclaimer: **Only words do I own.

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter Four**

_Memories can be inviting to the lost and lonely of this world. They take you back to a time where your mind was frivolous and you're convinced that it was a happier place compared to the here and now of life. It buzzes loudly in your ear, and all you want to do is close your eyes tightly and be taken back – just for a short time. You need that fix that only your imagination can offer. Soon you find yourself tumbling down the rabbit hole…_

Why was it every time he woke up in the morning there had to be that infernal bird song? Was it some ploy to infuriate him out of his mind? There was no way birds could be that happy at this time in the morning, he considered sleepily. In fact it was slightly suspicious to the dozy, half risen brain. What in fact did the birds have to be so cheerful about? 

Draco rolled over and brought his pillow over his head in one swift movement. If there was one thing he had to compliment the Hogwart's House Elves, it was the condition they kept the beds. From his childhood days he could remember the comfort he had always felt in the beds. They were plush, extravagant, over the top and the comfiest thing between earth and heaven. 

It was only a small pleasure he revelled in though. The familiar hum of the school was beginning to tear at his nerves. He had spent many years alone and away from a community such as this. To find himself be thrown back into one was almost excruciating. All he wanted to do was mount his broom and fly as far away from the place as he possibly could. Deep down he admitted to himself that it might not just be the spirit of the school getting to him. It was the memories.

They had once lain dormant, thought to be extinct, at the back of his mind. Rarely did he enjoy delving into the past he had once seen as a better place. It was too much of a reality check for him. The presence of his old flame wasn't helping much either. How was he expected to behave around her? Should he be as cold as ice or as sickly sweet as honey? 

So far he'd been at Hogwarts for a whole week. Due to the Christmas festivities, he was not needed to perform his duties as the new Potions teacher just yet.   So instead he had flittered from room to room. He had walked in a manner that only could be described as Snape. It was his intention to show to the children that he was going to be just as formidable as their previous professor. Therefore he adopted a persona that was so familiar to him it was almost his true character. It was Malfoy, the powerful bastard who was going to look down at everyone he considered not good enough to step on. 

Though he would never admit it, he enjoyed being able to play this old tune. It had seemed for such a long time that this side of his personality had been covered by a layer of dust. In his line of business, it was thought improper to act as if you owned the room and beyond. Sometimes it had been necessary to show control over others, but it had never come close to the arrogant Malfoy he had displayed at school. 

He rolled over again, allowing the birds song to echo round his ears. Well, he considered, it was better then being woken up by the sound of your own heart beating from fear. Sitting up, he stretched his arms upwards and rotated his wrists. 

Nightmares were frequent demons of the night in the Malfoy manor. It seemed to him that his entire family suffered them. As a child he had been plagued by visions of knives breaking his skin and dark men chasing him. Normally he would wake up in a fit of unnatural panic. Other times though he would be unable to escape the dark blankets of the dream. He would be smothered by vision after vision of death, destruction and chaos. 

Draco stood in front of the wall length mirror and surveyed himself. A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth. Far removed was he from the scrawny boy who dictated a strict regime in the Slytherin ranks. He was taller and built up and out. The one thing that pestered him from the corners of his mind was the similarity. It was like staring at his father and knowing you shouldn't fear your own reflection. He had grown up to be the spitting image of Lucius Malfoy and there was little difference between father and son. 

He laughed coldly at his own image. Of course there was a huge difference between himself and Lucius, he thought. Draco Malfoy was a traitor to his fathers' whims. What Lucius didn't know though, couldn't possibly backlash onto him. There was no way he was going to let that lunatic know what he thought of him. He feared him to much to oppose him openly. So instead he did it in the ally ways and the dark places of the world, letting all know what the next step of the plan was. 

Of course it was hard maintaining the façade of respect and humbleness. Especially so when he was faced with a long meeting with his father and his minions. Lucius wasn't stupid though. The first place he looked for betrayal was his son. He distrusted Draco, with his arrogance and storm calm temper. It was this distrust that allowed Draco to learn so much. When hiding something, it is much more likely to be found and he always found what was being hidden away. 

This brought with it though another kind of fear. He found his paranoia beginning to cloud his thoughts and often had to find a place to be alone. Not only was he suspicious of his father, but his friends, colleges and partners. Family was family and he couldn't change that as much as he wished. Friends could be changed and used at the drop of a hat. He felt no need to keep them long, because friendship meant trust and he trusted no one with his past. Colleges were there to help you up the ladder of fortune, not to befriend. Often they were the only ones who understood and knew you for what you were. You respected them, but didn't form attachments because they probably wouldn't last long. Then there was the issue of partners. 

Partners were people you trusted and shared your life with, were what Draco considered. They were not the people you hid away who you were to protect. This was another attachment therefore that he would never make. Sex was good, but it didn't mean he had to be committed to the woman he was shagging. For him it was a release and nothing more.

Now though the past was being stirred up, making him feel a little part of that passion he had once felt. 

 Hermione Granger. God he hated her so much for doing this to him again. Why couldn't she have remained in her place? She was the past he had taken a lot of time in forgetting. The only woman he had ever told he loved. Sometimes he had allowed himself to remember, dressing up a woman he paid for the night into a similar uniform. That happened rarely though as he felt certain guilt at remembering her in this way. It couldn't be helped though. Thoughts of her wriggled into his mind every time he was confronted by a reference to Hogwarts, the mention of rain and chocolate coloured items. 

Now though, he was confronted by the real thing. Flesh and blood that lay just beyond the wall of his room, sleeping peacefully. At first he had told himself that he would distance himself from her. He didn't need the distraction of a pretty face and a memory. What had bothered him though was the fact that she was ignoring him blatantly. It had made him angry that she should be ignoring him! Soon he had found himself watching her and noting every move like some obsessive stalker. It was happening all over again. He never could resist something he couldn't have. 

Quickly he dressed and left his dorm in a flurry of robes and paper. Three days to Christmas and he had an important meeting to attend. His eyes glanced down to the pocket watch he held in his hand. He was going to be late if he wasn't quick.

Gently he broke into an undignified jog. It was okay to be seen running in the appropriate attire, but in school robes that constricted his movement, he just felt like a fool. Well damned be the person who laughed at him. He would put them into enough detentions to make them wish they'd never even laid eyes on the sight. 

'You're late Draco.'

He nodded his head a fraction and closed to door to Snape's classroom behind him. Swiftly he passed his wand over the lock as a precaution. He didn't want any little Potter wannabe over hearing what was about to be discussed. He turned to the person with a slight smile on his lips. It was always best to remain as polite as possible. 

'My apologies. It isn't easy waking up after you've spent all night working on a lesson plan when you're not even a trained professor,' Draco soothed as he swept down to the front desk, relieved himself of the weight and slumped into the large teaching chair. 

Blaise Zabini was leant casually against one of the desks, facing the front of the room. His dark hair hung in front of his dark eyes, his arms crossed lazily in front of his chest, he looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. On his left cheek a purpling bruise took away the eyes attention. There was a gleam in his eyes though that joined with the slight smirk to show who came off worse in the fight. He was tall, with a well built figure. Not slim nor bulging in any place. In some ways Draco envied him for his looks. He was dark and mysterious, with the slightest hint of danger. Facially he was the sort of pretty that was close to handsome. 

'Whatever rocks your boat Malfoy,' Zabini intoned in his usual casual manner. He spoke as if he had all the time in the world, and had a natural calm about him that rivalled Draco's.  'Now you're here though, we'd better get down to business.'

'Indeed we should,' he said softly as he opened a file and brought out a quill. 

'Nice to see you're taking notes for a change.'

'Don't flatter yourself Zabini. Severus left a whole pile of marking that needs my attention and I might as well work on it while you drone on about protocol and the urgency of my so called mission,' he replied without even glancing up. 'I take it you didn't have any problems finding the place and getting in? It would be awfully like you to forget where you spent eight years of your life.'

Blaise shook his head in a judging manner. 'See Malfoy, there's a reason why you got this job and I didn't.'

'Because my IQ is higher then yours, I command more control, Dumbledore has some what of an affection for me and I excel at Potions where you failed? Or was it just because I was Severus' favourite in class?' Draco said, finally allowing himself to look up into the face of his college. 

'Actually I was referring to the similarities between you and Snape. You're both conniving little rats with too much cunning for your own good.' 

'I never knew you thought so strongly of me Blaise,' he said with more then a hint of sarcasm. 'Then again I should have known from all the rubber necking you did in the shower rooms after a Quidditch match.'

Zabini smiled. 'Same old Malfoy, I see. Not a care for what might be going on around him unless it involves mud being splattered on his new robes.'

Draco decided to ignore the implications being thrown at him by Zabini. It was best not to be brought down to his level. His mind went back to the marking as the silence stretched out through the room. Only the sounds of a man pulling up a chair to the other side of the desk and making himself comfortable broke it.

'Severus has made it to the border. At least he had three days ago. That's the last message we've had from him…The Ministry are starting to feel uncomfortable about the situation. Severus has been an asset since the beginning of the war. Without him they are afraid they will lose the insiders view. We could lose without it.' His tone was serious and soft. 

'And what do they expect me to do about it?' 

'They expect you to take his place.' 

'I thought it was clear I had already done that.'

'Dumbledore thinks that you should remain here as Severus' replacement as the spy within the school. You're father, being the fool he is, agrees.' Blaise laughed softly. 'Obviously he doesn't know that it is what Dumbledore wants. He believes that you actually want to help him for once. You should have heard him gloat over the early Christmas dinner we had at Malfoy Manor.'

'I aim to please.'

'He spoke reams of how you were upholding the family name and values. Said that you were finally becoming the son he wanted and not some drop out.'

'Isn't it nice to have a father who cares so much?' Draco said cynically. 'What is the point you are trying to get to Blaise?'

Zabini rubbed the bridge of his nose and leant back in the chair. 'The Ministry are concerned that Severus is not going to come back. They want us to send someone out there to make a progress check and replace the mole. They want us to send you out there.'

'I thought we had already discussed that it would raise suspicions!' He snapped, his attention entirely away from the work he was doing. 

'Believe me; we are trying to talk them out of it. They are foolish enough to think though, that you could do a better job then Severus. There have been rumours…' His voice went flat and eerily quiet.

'I thought you were beyond rumours Blaise,' he scolded sarcastically.

'Fudge has told the Ministry that he wants an execution of rouge spies. He has evidence that Severus is one of these. It was his suggestion that it were you that were sent out there. He wants you to kill Severus and he's willing to approach you without the backing or support of the Ministry. He believes that you are the weak link and will do it for power, money and a better job.'

Draco leant back in the chair. It was confusing working as a spy for both the Ministry and the Death Eaters. It meant having two sets of information for two different groups. One was the truth and the other was what he was told to say. The Death Eaters believed him to be a vital link to the Ministry. He worked under the façade of being Severus' assistant and they were under the impression he was being lined up to get a place within the school. Voldemort wanted his key supporters to go with him to a secret site. Severus was considered one of these and Draco was to take over his place as the mole within Hogwarts. What they didn't know was that all the information Severus, and now Draco were sending back were lies. 

The Ministry created lies that were made common knowledge among the known spies. Severus would tell the Ministry what was happening on the Dark side of the war. He would bring back information on the people, places and attacks. In return he was given the safety net of Hogwarts. It was safe to send lies out from there because he was the only spy present. Dumbledore trusted Snape and allowed this known Death Eater to teach within his grounds. He was protected, feared and respected. 

Then he had the call. Draco had heard a lot about the call from Lucius and had used it to build up a healthy knowledge about how it worked. The Dark Mark would begin to burn the flesh of the victim, until they got close enough to their master to feel better. It was Voldemort's way of gathering his followers. Snape had fought with it for days, burning in agony. Eventually though they had had to let him go as not to raise suspicion. It was then that Draco had been informed by both the Ministry and his father that he would be going to Hogwarts. 

'The Ministry have also been made aware of the rumour that an execution is intended to be made by you. They want to send you out there, because you are the obvious replacement for Snape. What they don't want is for you to become corrupt. We are using Fudge's intentions as a reason to keep you back here at the school. Unfortunately though rumours do not stand up. Officially Fudge has only suggested that he thinks Snape might be a rouge spy and that he thinks he should be assassinated if the accusation is found to be true.' Zabini ran a hand through his hair and released a pent up sigh. 'Overall the situation is confusing. I find myself beginning to wonder whether the Ministry is working against us or with us.'

'Why though would Fudge want Severus disposed of?' Draco said through his own bleak thoughts. 

'We believe that he has information on Fudge's embezzlement. We don't believe he is with the Dark side because it would be easy enough for him to have Severus disposed of,' he said thoughtfully.

'Do they not understand that I must be here as the link between Hogwarts and the Death Eaters?' he said with an edge of exasperation. 'Without me, there would be no link and that would be a great threat to the school. It is a key point in Voldemort's plan. Through education he could change the face of wizardry!' 

'You're preaching to the converted, Draco. I would have you stay here in an instant. We understand that if you don't stay here the school is left vulnerable without sufficient warning. We don't have the power though to stop them sending you away, even though it would be suicide. You are no where near close enough to Voldemort to get the information Snape is supplying,' he regarded Draco with what could be misread as sympathy.

'What I'm not clear on is why the Ministry want to send me out if they think I might go corrupt…' 

'We believe that there is a possibility that they feel you are becoming more bother then good. You are the only one close to replacing Snape, but you are also young, arrogant and cocky. Not exactly the qualities the Ministry want representing them. Fudge will undoubtedly approach you and ask for you to accept the leaving post to execute Snape. What the Ministry wants is for you to be swayed…' he trailed off and shook his head. 

'They want to send me out on a mission of suicide.' 

'They want to dispose of bad press. You may be a Malfoy, but you're power doesn't extend that far. You're father doesn't want you out on the battlefields – he made that quite clear to at the meeting. I believe that for once he might be right.' 

Draco took a deep soothing breath. The Ministry wanted to go out and possibly be killed, just because they thought he was bad press. They wanted him to leave Hogwarts and be killed for the sake of their reputation.

'Who would replace me here?' he asked smoothly.

'I would.'

'Right.'

'I'd prefer you didn't leave me in the lurch though. I do hate Potions.'

Draco laughed quietly. 'I take it you've told Dumbledore about the Ministry's plans?'

'I have. He said he would do everything in his power to make them see that he needed you as a defence for the school. He commented that he thought you would probably prefer it that way.' 

'I sometimes wonder how much that man knows. He seems to be the only one not corrupt in some way or another. At least I'm openly corrupt,' he smirked a little and brushed off the knowledge that he might soon be killed. 

'I had better leave you to your marking. We wouldn't want you to shirk your responsibilities Professor Malfoy,' Zabini said with a twisted smile.

'This file has everything I have been sent by the dreams…' Draco fingered the file carefully. 'It seems I am to make a plan to bring down the new Defence Against the Dark Art's teacher. I would be glad if you could pass the report on.'

Blaise took the file and opened it. 'Granger. She could become an obstacle. They never do like the DADA teacher though. What are you going to do?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing?' he laughed. 'If you don't at least formulate a plan then Lucius will become suspicious. You must have a plan.'

'I don't want her involved in this Zabini.' 

'You're not still holding that pathetic torch of yours are you?' Blaise scorned. 'We all knew you wanted to get into her knickers back at school, but I would have thought you'd have grown out of your obsession.'

'I have never, as you so nicely put it, wanted to get into her knickers. I do though think that she should not become involved. She is linked too much to Potter and we both know why they want me to dispose of her.'

Blaise nodded slightly. 'True. She can't find out who you are and go telling Potter. He doesn't know the whole story even though he's an Auror. Jumping to conclusions could lead to exposure.'

'Right. When are you coming to collect the next report?' 

'Two weeks. I'm being sent to Cardiff. There's a Muggle there who has gone mad and claims she saw Satan kill her son. We have the information that it isn't just the mad ramblings of grief. I'm to go to her and extract as much information as possible.' 

'Fine. We'll meet again in two weeks.'

'Until then,' Zabini stood and made his way over to the door. Quickly he unlocked it and opened it. 'If you need assistance then Weasley is available. She seems to think she'd be able to handle you and your issues. I trust her with them if you need it.'

Draco simply nodded. 

'Always nice to catch up with you Draco. Pop by the office anytime you like,' Zabini said loudly as he heard an approaching figure making its way down the corridor. 

'Oh I will Blaise. I will.'

With that Draco found himself incredibly alone. His small amount of trust slipping away. Blaise was right. He would have to make some sort of plan towards Hermione. Maybe seduction would be enough to distract her from being nosy and getting herself in trouble.

He smiled slightly and went back to marking papers. Christmas was coming and with it the mistletoe.

_…and then you realise that its too deep. It seems to go on forever until eventually reality offers you it's cold hand. No longer can dream of a life far removed from the harshness of daylight. You have to block out the nights screams and concentrate on the task ahead. Living in the past doesn't make you alive, it slowly kills you. What use is a dead man to the world that keeps on turning?_


	5. Chapter Five

**Authors Note: **I have one exam left and plenty of time on my hands. Expect updates galore as I try and finish this before Saturday – the likeliness of this is very slim! Thanks to all those who reviewed.

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of this!

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**Inclination**

**Chapter Five**

_How long is a piece of string? It is the shortest and longest measurement ever known to mankind and the answer will never be known. Some will tell you it's as long as the ball, others say that it is infinite. The answer though will always be an uncertainty like life itself. Can anyone be certain of anything? Phantom thoughts roam the mind…_

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Hermione gazed out of the window and closed her eyes in frustration. Sometimes the most subtle of noises could be the most aggravating and if Draco didn't stop that infernal tapping she was going to make sure he would never use his hand ever again. Then again, she'd rather make sure that he never even breathed again – that would defiantly stop him from annoying her as much as he had been the past week.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You'd think that on Christmas Eve of all nights, he would stop being an arrogant pig just for one second; she mused as she opened her eyes and stared out the window again. All week he had been playing upon her insecurities and his little habits were beginning to drive her mad. This might be the dream job, but he was far from the dream co-worker she had been hoping for. In fact the longer she spent at the school, the more she found herself getting angry and wanting to hit him. Hit him very hard. Hit him very hard with preferably a sledgehammer. At least then she wouldn't have to listen to the older girls coo about him while she was accidentally eavesdropping in the library. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

The first annoying thing he had started to do was watch her. She'd be sat in the main hall eating and suddenly she would feel his eyes burning into her. Instead of turning to face him and glare, all she could find herself do was blush. It was embarrassing beyond belief not being able to look him in the face and tell him what she thought. Every time she even got close to doing so she got a mental image of him smiling at her in that predatory way. That smile had got her into trouble before and there was no way she was going to let it get her again. It was different now anyway…

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She had Oliver and he was enough of a pull to stop her from even contemplating looking at Draco in that light again. Yes, she assured herself, she loved Oliver very much. The man sat next to her now was merely a mistake from the past. At that she felt a slight twinge in the pit of her stomach. Ok, so maybe it was mind blowing and one of the best things she'd ever done, but it was still a mistake. Draco was out of bounds from now on.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

The next irritating thing he'd begun to do though was to be up at all hours. It must be obvious to him that she'd be able to hear him. Who wouldn't with the amount of noise he made? It would have been ok if he'd simply been moving things around, but it wasn't just that. He was sliding things across the floor at ungodly noises. He was swearing and throwing things at walls when anyone normal would have gone to bed. He was making…suggestive noises at three in the morning. It had been the final straw for her though. Promptly her wand had come out and she had cast a muffling spell over her own quarters. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Now there was this infernal tapping. He always seemed to be tapping or humming under his breath. She didn't even think he was doing it to get her. It was one of those natural habits that people get over time when they're concentrating. Still though, it was annoying as hell and she wished to just reach over and snap his wand in half. Confrontation would mean looking and talking to him though. At the same time! That defiantly wasn't a good idea. Last time they'd done that it had been the first day and she had almost cried at his actions. The banter seemed so familiar, yet different in so many ways.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly what you'd call an open book. 

Tap. Tap. Tap

There were other things that were annoying her too. There was the way he did his hair. Somehow he'd made it so it was slicked back from his face and tied in a neat little ponytail. She hated that. It would have looked so much better if only he'd wear it loose and down. And then there was the way he rocked back on his chairs. One of these days he was going to misjudge and crack his head open. She hated the way he smelt too. It was sort of musky…but not at the same time. Then there was the way he dressed. It wasn't at all his style. It was obviously his attempt at becoming the actual Severus Snape. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She hated the way his voice was smooth and deep, with no hiccups or stutters.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She hated the way he'd brush past her without even apologising.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She hated the way he obviously eyed up some of the older girls.

Tap. 

The tapping was broken off by Hermione's hand slapping down on his wand, trapping on the top of the table and her skin. Pointedly, she turned her head a fraction and smiled sweetly. 'Please could you desist from that…tapping?' 

'And if I don't want to Granger?' he said in a silky soft tone. 'I'd like to see you try and stop me.'

'You know perfectly well that I could take you out any time I wanted to.' Taking a deep breath she paused and took her hand away from his wand. 'Isn't it better to be safe then sorry anyway? So don't push me because I would gladly give the students an example of defence against the dark arts right now.'

Looking back out the window, she knew he was smiling that infuriating smile of his. It was almost enough to get her to turn back round and give him a piece of mind. She wasn't going to let him know how much she really hated him though. That would be stooping down to his level and that was not what she would do. 

'Well, Hermione,' he said in a soft whisper close to her ear, 'we both know you don't play dirty and we both know you would never take that big a risk. For you, once is enough and I think we've already crossed that bridge.'

Her fists balled up at her sides. How dare he say that the one risk she ever took was by getting with him! At least that was what it sounded like he was implying and at such close proximity, she could only guess that it was.

'Though I do believe there's a muggle saying about burnt bridges…' he pushed her hair away from her face. 'Our bridge doesn't have to be burnt, if you don't want it to be.'

His lips were slowly getting closer to her ear and she could feel herself shivering with untold delight. This was wrong. This was the last thing in the world she wanted to happen. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell him that she would rather become Voldemort's bride then ever go near him ever again. All it would take were just a few words to put him off. 

Frankly it was a good job they were alone in the staff room. Everyone was supposed to be here about ten minutes ago and she had a sinking feeling that they were the only two people who were invited. After all, it was Christmas Eve and the festivities were being set up in the hall. She'd longed to be there helping them charm each piece of furniture and every candle stick. It was supposedly one of the better chores of being a Hogwarts Professor. Instead though she'd had a note from Dumbledore informing her that there was a meeting in the staff room at lunchtime. She had come five minutes early not wanting to be late. Draco had breezed in just after and sat next to her.

Her eyes closed as she felt his lips brush against the skin beneath her ear. Merlin, this was wrong. It's not you that's doing anything though, she reminded herself. It's him making the advances and you don't have to feel guilty about one little peck on the neck.

This time his lips stayed in contact for a couple of seconds longer. 'Hermione,' he whispered against her skin, making all the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. 

Suddenly she remembered why it was so wrong and pulled away from him. Quickly she stood up and walked to the other side of the table before sitting down again. It would be easier saying what she was going to say if at a distance from him. This way her temper wouldn't roll into some other passion.

'Look Malfoy that was a long time ago and as I recall you were the one that ended it!' she said unsteadily as she crossed her arms across her chest. 'It's your loss that this never went any further. You're just trying to get at me so I'll run away from my job or…or…crawl back into bed with you. Just because I told you I loved you four years ago, does not mean I still love you now. In fact what I feel for you is far from love! I hate you! I really do!' 

Slowly her voice had become more confident and with it louder. She hadn't realised that she was shouting angrily until she heard a small cough from her left and had glanced over to be confronted with the sight of Dumbledore. Her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment.

'Well…now we're clear on how you feel for Professor Malfoy, I think we can begin the meeting,' Dumbledore said with a broad smile and a twinkle in his eye. 

Slowly her head sunk down to meet the table and she covered her face with her hands. This was one of the worst moments of her life! Dumbledore now knew things that no one else knew! What if he went and mentioned to Oliver that she'd been yelling at Draco about not wanting to go to bed with him…again? How would she explain that to him? She couldn't exactly see him being happy if she told him the truth. Four years ago she had fallen madly in love with Draco Malfoy and since then he'd always been at the back of her thoughts. 

'I must apologise for Professor Granger here. I fear I may have provoked her somewhat. I think she would be glad if you never mentioned this ever again,' Draco said with a tone of amusement.

'Young people today! You'd think love were the worst thing in the world the way some of you act…The matter shall never be mentioned again though. I had no intention of anyway. I like to believe in privacy.' Dumbledore was saying it in the utmost seriousness, but somehow Hermione couldn't help but think he was teasing somewhat. 'Anyway, we have business to attend to.' 

Dumbledore sat down at the head of the table and smiled at the two Professors. 'I'm sure you are both aware that tomorrow is Christmas day and we will be having somewhat of a celebration. For some time now we have had a Ball planned. Severus and I felt it would be an escape from the war for the students. Unfortunately, he is not with us to complete these plans so I will be enlisting your help.'

'What exactly is it you want us to do?' Draco chimed in, with his usual bored manner.

'I need a couple of teachers to make sure that everything runs smoothly tomorrow night.' He paused for a second. 'With all the threats, we need as many staff as possible on duty, which means there will be few teachers to watch over the students whilst they dance.'

Hermione looked up and smiled slightly. 'So you wish us to attend the Ball and make sure no student gets into a fight, or becomes drunk?' 

'Exactly Hermione.'

'Seems a simple enough task for one teacher, let alone two,' Draco's voice cut in again. 'Perhaps seeing as Granger is so eager to take part, I will not be needed.'

'No Draco. Your assistance will be vital. I realise you have a lot on your plate right now and I understand that you are having help about it. Normally I would excuse you from duties, but this time I think we should all be present.' 

A frown creased her forehead slightly. What exactly did Dumbledore mean by that? As far as she knew Draco had very little on his plate. All he seemed to do was sweep around the school and irritate the hell out of her. There was another week until lessons actually began again. It didn't even seem like the man slept!

'I have been meaning to ask,' Dumbledore continued, 'did the potion Poppy gave you work at all?'

'I think you already know the answer to that Professor.'

'Hmm. You could at least lie to me Draco. The comfort it would have brought me would be reassuring.'

'Sorry sir, but it didn't work as well as might have been hoped.'

'No. I'm sorry. Very sorry that you are being subjected to such things.' Dumbledore shook his head wearily and looked away. 'I have a letter for you in my office if you'd like to come and collect it after this meeting.'

Draco nodded slightly, without a sign of the fear or pain that was showing in Dumbledore's face. Hermione frowned and looked between the two in confusion. Something was defiantly happening. 

'Oh, sorry my dear, I quite forgot you were here!' Dumbledore laughed gently. 'Draco has been suffering awful headaches and nightmare, don't you know?' 

'No…he hadn't mentioned them to me.' Her eyes instantly went to Draco, who had taken her stance at gazing out the window.

'Oh well. That was all I had to ask. I'll leave you too your…banter.' With that he rose, bowed slightly and left the room in one swift movement. 

Silence seemed to echo through the stuffy room. It was as if the air had been sucked out from it and had been replaced by pure anticipation. Hermione rubbed her fingertips together and let her gaze flicker back to Draco for a second. 

Ever since she was a young girl she had been in a constant state of curiosity. She had lots of questions and it had seemed very few answers. Tugging at her mothers dress she would often ask why the sky was blue, why the grass was green and why she was a little girl and not a little boy. Her mother had smiled slightly and scooped her up into her arms. Pressing a tender kiss to her daughters' hair she would say that Hermione had all the time in the world to learn the answers for herself. Since then she had done so at every opportunity. From helping Harry to learning her studies, she found herself sucked into worlds of knowledge. People had mocked her then but all she had to do was think of how much she knew and a smile would curl her lips.

Now she was being presented with another mystery. Why was Draco having headaches that couldn't be cured by medicine? What was the supposed load he had to deal with? Was this letter anything to concern her? Who exactly was the man sat in front of her?

'You never mentioned headaches,' she said briskly.

'As I yet again recall, you never asked. In fact Professor Granger, I do believe you are ignoring your old school chum.' His voice was snide and full of something she couldn't put her finger on. 'Never mind though. I shall diminish and you can go back to your perfect life.'

It seemed almost as if in slow motion as Hermione Granger, Hogwarts professor and sleuth watched Draco Malfoy, Snape's assistant and old flame, leave the room with a banging door. Her heart skipped a beat and she flushed. 

It was all coming back to her now. 

_…and you want to scream. It seems as if the whole world is against you. You are completely alone in a world of blurry thoughts and mad passions. Flesh itches to scrape back the edges of reality and drift motionlessly through time forever. Infinity is held in the palm of your hand, taunting you with its delicious dance. So many questions in a world of few answers. Is the truth out there?_

**Authors Note 2: **Not very much but I am building up something. Please **review and tell me what you think of the story so far. **


	6. Chapter Six

**Authors Note: **No more school until September, so there should be lots of updates on my part. This story isn't looking to be too long by the end, so I estimate about another four chapters until I throw my lot in and call it a day on this. I have some big plans which are quite complicated, so please ask questions if I confuse you anywhere! This chapter has no interaction between Draco and Hermione and I have brought in yet another character. This will not be as straightforward as maybe 'Tomorrows Yesterday'. There is only a hint of a spoiler but it shouldn't interfere with those who haven't read the book. In fact you probably won't notice it because its that small a point! Enjoy reading!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the following characters. If I did I would be a very rich lady. 

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter Six**

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_Being alone in the world is an ugly fear. It is like a monster that wreaks and consumes everything in sight. When the humming of the universe seems too loud for you, you seek to be alone in the world. Then in the darkness, you can hear nothing and it scares you. Loneliness stings like a wound…_

Draco sat at his desk, swinging backwards and forwards on his chair. His brows were furrowed in concentration as his eyes scanned over a piece of parchment in front of him. From anyone looking into the scene it seemed reminiscent of Scrooge on Christmas day. There was no look of celebration or even a hint that it was a joyous time for the world. All that seemed apparent was that the heir to the Malfoy estate in Wiltshire was in deep thought. His mind consumed by whatever was jotted down on a simple piece of paper.

A closer look would show us that he had good reason.

He leant back in his chair, allowing the parchment to slip away from his fingers and lay deserted upon the table top. It was too much, he considered as his eyes moved from the parchment to the door. They couldn't be expecting this much of him surely? After all he was only human. 

The paper taunted him though. Could it possibly all be a lie? 

No.

His eyes closed and he took a deep calming breath. There was no good to be found in losing his patience with the world in general. He had seen the consequences of that before, and no amount of shouting would stop the world from turning on its axis quite happily. It seemed to him that there never was enough time in the world even when you felt there was. 

It had been midnight when he had finally fallen asleep. He didn't know how long he had lain there, thinking about everything and nothing, but it seemed like a long time then. His thoughts at the time had alternated from Hermione to Voldemort and back. A strange combination, he realised, but one that was increasingly haunting his dreams.

When Draco had first gained the dark mark, he had whimpered and cried for hours. He had known this is what he would become for years leading up to it, but now it had happened he wished for the entire world that he could escape it. With a knife he had hacked at the raw flash to no avail. The hideous thing still scorned him. 

That night Lucius had beaten the tears from his body. No son of his would cry over such a privilege like a weak fool. 

Having no school to attend Draco was forced to stake a claim in his own future. Though Lucius had offered one with many advantages, he had decided that he wanted to do something normal. The excitement of doing something so against his father's wishes was exhilarating. For the first time he had felt free of the hands that were slowly suffocating him to death. 

The problem had been though that he had no idea of what he should do. After Hogwarts there seemed to be nothing that could fill in that void left. He felt at a loss, but was unable to console himself with any task. It was at that point in his life that he had been approached by Snape, the man who had once been his Potions teacher. Apparently there were many rewards to betraying your family and so he had joined a special branch that catered in double agents. 

Revenge is a dish best served cold, they say.

With the sweet enticement of revenge though, came the nightmares. Any follow of Voldemort would argue that they weren't nightmares, simply messages from the Dark Lord himself. Draco knew what they really were though and no amount of talk could convince him other wise. How could watching yourself kill men and women not be a nightmare?

Snape had warned him of these, offering a remedy to the plague of his mind. So Draco had begun to learn occlumency to block out the Dark Lords invasion into his mind. He could read his memories and turn them against him whenever it pleased. He could cause him pain beyond belief at the drop of a hat. That was his way of controlling his men. If they stepped out of line then they would suffer unimaginably. 

The occlumency usually worked for him though and eventually he had been able to sleep soundly without the disturbances. 

Now though a fresh batch of visions were piercing through his mind. They were so strong that he couldn't block them and the message was clearer then day. If Draco didn't do what was required of him, he would pay the consequences. 

Hermione, he thought as he rocked his chair back and forth slowly. It had been an unexpected factor in the equation. Her presence in the school was causing him considerable problems. In his mind it was all her fault for the nightmares coming back to cut away at his nerves. Soon he would hit that low again where he was unable to hold a cup without the liquid shaking with his nervousness. 

'Professor Malfoy?'

He looked up with a scowl, but was confronted by something far from what he was expecting. Instead of the snotty nosed brat asking stupid questions about the properties of wolfbane, there was a tall slim woman. Her hair trailed down her back in curly waves in all its red splendour. A slight smile tugged at his lips. 

'Miss Weasley, what an unexpected visit this is,' he said smoothly to show no surprise. 'I have to say I didn't think you would actually instigate any meeting. Especially one as public as this on Christmas Day.'

Ginny smiled slightly and closed the Potion's room door behind her. 'It's good to keep you on your toes. You never know who else might pay an unexpected visit in the near future.'

'I'll take that as a warning instead of just woman's intuition.'

With a nod of her head, she walked down the row between the desks, and sat down in the chair opposite him. She wore a welcoming smile and seemed to look perfectly at home in the classroom. His eyes automatically glanced down to her hand, for any indication of a wedding band. There was none to be seen.

'Blaise told me I should come and check up on you. I think he's worried about your mental health, even though he would never actually say it out loud.' Her calm exterior made Draco frown slightly. 'I've read your reports and I have to say I agree with him. You shouldn't be running yourself into the ground like this. It could hinder the mission if you were, for example, to be too knackered to move your behind and work.'

'What worries you more,' he asked quietly, 'the fact I'm having these visions or the knowledge that I would love to carry them out?'

She stayed silent and gazed at him blankly. Draco welcomed the silence. It allowed him to gather his thoughts after her unexpected intrusion. There was a slight tug of war going on in his head. Should he lie or be honest? If he lied then it would be easy for him to breeze through her inspection. Then again if she found out he would be in trouble for lying.

'What worries me most is that you have a tendency to be reckless,' she said delicately. 'Whether or not this plan appeals to you is of no concern to the Order at the present time.'

'Oh, so your speaking for the Order then are you?' he wrinkled his nose slightly. 'I should have known you wouldn't just come out of concern for my well being.'

'I realise that you are having problems with this mission. Hermione should not be a distraction though. You should be able to carry on as if she were not here. It is vital that you stay in control of the situation. If you cock up and the Ministry find out, it will only fuel their campaign to set you out after Snape. We can't have you out in the cold on this one Malfoy.' 

Silence again wreaked its havoc across the room. This wasn't going to swing his way, he considered as he watched her. She was not going to back down. That didn't mean he had to though, he thought with a hint of a smile.

'Do you know what it feels like to be so close to someone you want desperately, but can't have? The one person being everything you despise, yet you find yourself craving them. Then on top of that to be told you are to do unspeakable things to her, just so precious Potter doesn't come snooping round the Orders business.,' he shook his head, 'I don't think you could ever understand.'

'I understand you might be reluctant to do anything to hurt her. It is in her best interests though if she is removed from the school for now. There's no need for it to be permanent,' Ginny said calmly.

'You're scared I will do what I've seen in those visions, aren't you?' his voice was quiet again and was obviously unsettling for the woman sat across from him.

'The Order feels you may stray from the path of the righteous. There have been cases where Death Eaters are unable to control the mark and are forced to undergo hideous things to relieve themselves of the pain.' There was a long pause as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. 'I know what you're thinking though. Believe me when I say that this is not an issue of mistrusting you. We must be cautious though. Not only could she distract you from your duties, but she could get hurt if you lose control.'

Draco picked up the piece of paper that was lying in front of him. His eyes scanned over the text again and then looked up at her in an accusing manner. 'Is that any reason to do what the Ministry thinks should be done?'

'We can't ignore the Ministry's wishes.'

'You might not be able to,' he touched his wand to the piece of paper, 'but I can.'

With that the paper flared up in a blaze of orange flames that climbed up the paper slowly, destroying it as it went. He watched it with grim satisfaction before dropping it into the bin and allowing it to burn out of its own accord.

'I refuse to plant those things in her belongings for the Ministry to find. If anything it would make Potter more nosy and overbearing. Also they seem to be overlooking the little factor of Dumbledore. He would not think this to be true. He would know it was me who set it up and I can't lose that trust while I'm here.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'Merlin, she's only been here for a couple of weeks, and none of that is actual teaching.'

'Malfoy, you are trying the Ministry's patience.'

He nodded in acceptance. 

Ginny sighed and gave him a pleading look. 'I knew you would still hold a certain affection for her, and I agree that this is unfair play by the Ministry. If it were entirely up to the Order, we would rather have you leave the situation as it were.'

She's scared, he thought to himself. Scared of what though? Maybe it was the fact that Draco was so close to being thrown out of the Order. Maybe it was fear for her friend. Or maybe she was scared of the entire situation and he wouldn't blame her if she was. In all honesty so was he.

'I…I can't do that to her,' he murmured. 

'The nightmares, when you see her what is she doing?' Ginny asked quietly as if scared of asking. This was not a Ministry question - this was her own curiosity coming into play. 

'Do you want to know Weasley?' his voice was low and dangerous. 'Do you really want to hate me?'

'I need to know Malfoy. It is a matter of translating the dreams so we can formulate a plan to fool Voldemort into thinking you are doing what he wishes.'

'So be it on your own head,' he said as he crossed his arms across the chest. 'We're making love in my chambers. She's beneath me with her eyes closed and I can feel myself smiling with happiness. Soon though the room begins to get darker and she opens her eyes. The look of horror and disgust on her face makes me feel incredibly angry. She opens her mouth to scream, but my hands wrap round her throat and slowly I begin to throttle her. When she finally stops thrashing beneath me, I finish what I started and get up to have a shower.' 

Ginny's hand covered her mouth as she gazed at him.

'That's only one of the scenarios. I won't bother you with the rest.' 

'Tonight,' she said in a whisper, 'I want you to make sure you stay away from her. If you even lay a finger on her I will know.'

'Don't worry your scruffy little head,' he sneered, 'I wouldn't even dream of it.'

The joke was met with more uncomfortably silence. Well if the Ministry wanted him to put those dark magical books into her bag, they would be disappointed. He would not destroy her character like that because she didn't deserve it. Sure she annoyed him and he often wished she would stop preaching in that whiney little voice of hers, but to drag her character through the dirt in front of an entire school. That was low even for his standards.

The Death Eaters on the other hand felt the new teacher was a threat. If they learnt enough about defence, Dumbledore would have an army to use against them. So Voldemort had spent the past two weeks sending Draco visions of death. He wanted him to dispose of Hermione by using seduction to lull her into a false sense of security. He was using his memories to entice him to do the crime. 

Ginny was probably here because Blaise had read the reports. He would be worried about Draco going over board and giving into his desires for the girl. Well he wouldn't do that. With all the pressure put on him, there was no time left to actually have sex. All night every night he had little sleep because he was training himself to become a teacher. It was easy enough in theory and he hadn't thought it difficult until he had started to plan lessons. He might not be there initially to teach but it was still something he would eventually have to do. 

Tonight would be the Christmas ball and he knew he would be tempted to seduce Hermione. He always had loved things he couldn't have – this time though nothing would happen because he would distance himself from her. 

'Is Zabini back from where ever it was he was going?' Draco questioned to lighten the mood.

'He should be back by tomorrow at the latest. He needs to be at Percy Weasley's hearing on the 28th and I can't exactly write him a speech to say while he's there. I know he wishes I would though.' Ginny was smiling impishly and there was a slight tint to her cheeks.

'Still not given into his charms yet then?' he questioned with a lazy drawl.

'Certainly not! I have Harry now and I don't intend to stray far,' the blush intensified on her cheeks, making him smile. 'Oh leave it alone Malfoy! You and I both know that Blaise isn't actually likely to commit to a relationship with a Gryffindor Weasley.'

'It's happened before Virginia.'

_…and you beg for a companion – someone to hold your hand while you stumble through the dark. The problem comes when being alone becomes the only thing you can live with. You are separated from civilisation by a wafer thin layer, making you feel like the most insecure, lonely and desperate person ever to breathe. From the ashes though something will rise and that little inclination will begin to creep upon you._

**Authors Note 2: **As ever I appreciate your opinions on the chapter, so please **review. So far I've been amazed by the response to this story. Hopefully I can keep up this supposed good work! Anyway, in the next chapter I will probably use Hermione's point of view as I begin to explore the happenings of the ball – something to think about there…**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **It's been a while, I know, but here is chapter seven. In this chapter I've approached the ball, but it is not the complete night. So the rest shall be in the next chapter. Enough of my rambling though, sit back and enjoy. Remember to tell me what you think at the end too!

**Acknowledgements: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed – the only reason I continue is because you spur me on.

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**Inclination**

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**Chapter Seven**

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_Everything can be broken down into one simple form. Relationships, like chemistry, involve a compound consisting of at least two elements. These elements are the building blocks to everything – love, passion, desire, lust, hate. Without them there would be a void of despair because nothing would out run the boredom of a lifeless life. Alone there is no reaction…_

Glamorous lights spilt across the room, soaking it in vivid colours. From the walls bounced not only light, but the constant drone of gentle music mixed with the tang of rock. The air was fizzy with energy – excitement, worry, enjoyment, hilarity and depression swirled together into one bomb of teenage emotion. Overhead dangled mistletoe and extravagant baubles of every colour and size. Everything glistened as the aroma of hot spicy joy edged through the air with the subtly of sledgehammer. 

Overall Hogwart's was filled with what could only be described as Christmas.

Hermione smiled to herself as she watched the scene unfolding before her like a giant jigsaw. When she'd arrived about an hour ago, the dance floor had stood bare and forgotten. Around the sides had stood children of all ages, a look of fear on their faces as they considered dancing. No one wanted to start though – to walk out there alone whilst everyone watched. A smile had curled her lip at the familiarity of the situation.

Soon though, the people had moved as one and the dancing had begun. No one judged anyone else's dance skills, knowing their own was probably worse. Smiles burnt their faces with glory. They knew they were having the time of their lives. Never again would there be a party exactly the same as this one. Every moment counted in a world on the brink of total war.

In contrast to this happiness there were some unhappy faces in the crowd. They mostly belonged to the few boys and girls sat round the room, staring glassy eyed at the swirling people. Maybe they felt rejected by the body of couples and friends. Loneliness wasn't the answer though, Hermione considered. If she were alone at a party, she would make it look like she didn't care, so no one knew what she really felt like.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she viewed the girls preening themselves over by the buffet. They were all so young and beautiful – it made her feel quite old and ugly compared to these slender creatures. She never remembered looking anything like them when she was their age. Her body had been clumsy and untrained at catching the eyes of stray boys. She hadn't understood that all it took was a bit of confidence. Even now she wasn't sure if she could be quite as graceful as they were.

'Professor?' 

'Hmm?' Hermione turned slightly and smiled at the group of young girls awaiting her attention. 'What is it I can do for you?'

'We were just wondering…' spoke up the leader of the group, a short round mousey haired girl. 'Will Oliver Wood be coming to the ball?'

Her eyebrows arched instantly at the question. It had never even entered her mind that these pupils would know her as Oliver "The Sex God" Wood's girlfriend. Now though, she felt stupid at not having been prepared for questions like this. After all he was a teenage girl's dreamboat with his dark hair, piercing eyes and sporting agility. A certain amount of pride flushed through her body – she had something they couldn't.

'I'm afraid he's playing tonight, girls. But if he does make an appearance, I'll be sure to tell you first,' she winked at them conspiratorially. 'Just don't let him know I told you, okay?'

The gang of girls nodded enthusiastically and departed, bored now of their new professor. Hermione smiled to herself - at least they hadn't wanted to know if Harry would be joining them. She'd been tempted to invite him, so she could avoid loneliness, but the thought of the half crazed mob had put her off. In the end she had decided to go it alone. After all even if she did invite Harry, Ron or Oliver, they would probably end up in a fight with Malfoy. 

Talking of Malfoy, she wondered, where on earth was he? He should have joined her an hour ago to oversee the ball, but somehow it had ended up with her alone. Dumbledore was there along with a few of the other older teachers, but for once Hermione craved for company of her own age. This meant having to talk to Draco, a thought that was just a little too attractive for her at the moment. The desire though had slowly turned to anger, the longer she stood like a silly schoolgirl waiting for him. She'd realised how ridiculous she must have looked standing at the door, glancing about for a tall blonde and moved to the back of the room. 

After the meeting, she had been flushed and uncomfortable. Her skin had burnt with lust and embarrassment. How dare he kiss her in such a vulnerable place? The fact that she couldn't muster enough anger about him kissing her in the first place was worrying her too. It would be all too simply for her to simply slip back into old habits. It'd be too easy for her to wrap her arms round him and kiss the top of his head affectionately. Those had been the moments she'd loved most – where he was silent and she dominating and powerful for once. It had given her ego such a boost to be needed by such an arrogant pig. 

'Daydreaming about Wood again?' 

Closing her eyes for a second, she determined that she would remain calm and not lose her temper with him. 'If you must know, I was thinking about the time he asked me to dance when there was no music playing,' she lied. 'It was incredibly romantic. He led me out onto the floor and pulled me close. He was so tender…though I wouldn't expect you to understand that.'

'You would know Granger,' he said gently in a voice she knew meant danger. 

'Oh, you wouldn't believe how much,' she continued to push him. 'Let's just say that there are some things he will always be better then you at.'

'Well it's a good job I have no intention of becoming a well known airhead, isn't it?' 

Hermione turned to face him, a scowl etched into her face. 'Shut up Malfoy.'

A smile tilted his face slightly, making him look like a completely different person. 'Ouch Granger, that almost hurt my poor cold hearted feelings.'

'Feelings?' she sneered. 'I thought you lost those when you had that ugly Dark Mark burnt into your arm!'

The smile that was beginning to make its way onto his face fell away at the might of his anger. His eyes seemed to darken over like storm clouds, and his body prickled uncontrollably. Inwardly she gulped, maybe she shouldn't have pushed him this far. His hand came up quickly and grabbed her arm – his fingers dug into her creamy flesh, exposed by the new dress she was wearing for the occasion. Leaning forward, his mouth brushed against her ear. 'Don't worry Granger, I won't tell anyone you loved me if you don't,' he hissed menacingly. 

'Let go of me,' she whispered unsteadily. 

'I'm tired of this Hermione,' he continued. 'I'm tired of you pushing and pushing until you get a reaction. It's like you want to make me angry, simply because you can. Maybe even push me over the edge. Then when you succeed you don't like it. Do you? One of these days you're not going to be able to worm your way out of the conversation we will have to have. There'll be no more hiding behind your precious boyfriend and pride.'

With that he released her arm and took a step back. She looked up and found herself gazing into his eyes. He was watching her, looking at the dress and her hair. It was almost as if he were examining her and weighing her up. The dress, she had to admit, had been an expense on her account. She'd wanted to look pretty though. She'd wanted Draco to look at her and see what he'd given up the right to touch. All the feelings of anger and resentment for the way he had left her had balled up as she handed over the money for the deep purple ball gown. It was sleeveless with a corset at the top and a billowing skirt at the bottom. It screamed vixen at the time, but she didn't feel much of one now she was stood in front of him.

'Where were you?' she asked quietly, trying to dissolve the tension.

'I was busy. Miss me?' 

'Yes.'

He nodded slowly and leant against the wall behind him casually. 'What are we doing here Granger?'

'Our jobs,' she replied snidely.

'No I meant here…' he gestured between the two of them. 'Why is it so difficult for you to admit you don't hate me as much as you like to make out?'

'I could ask you the same question,' she said indignantly. 'And anyway, I do hate you.'

Draco's eyebrows arched in amusement. It was clear that he thought differently, and he could possibly be right. She found it difficult to admit to anyone that she had been truly, madly, deeply in love with her worst enemy. Only Ginny knew her dark secret, and yet she had never viewed any negative opinion of the relationship. At the time, Hermione had thought it was odd. If Ginny was alright with her having a relationship with the monster of the school, then why wasn't she? 

She could remember the first time she had glanced at him in the Great Hall when no one had been looking. It'd been after a few mad kisses and she had wondered what he had looked like when he wasn't aware of her prying eyes. It had been nothing special, just a miserable looking Draco munching on some toast. Somehow though it had made her feel like she was too hot to be in her skin. All she had wanted to do was run over and give him a big hug, ask him what was wrong, and then go back to her friends. That moment of warmth had made her feel uncomfortable amongst her best friends. They would never understand. 

'What was it that took you a whole hour then?' she changed the conversation.

'As I said, I was busy.'

'Doing what?'

'Wrapping presents,' he replied sarcastically. 'It's none of your business what I was doing. All you need to know is that I was busy, but I'm here now. Though I don't see why you should need me. You seem to be coping fine on by yourself.'

'How would you know? You haven't exactly been here to see me "coping" with the ball, have you?' Hermione said dryly. 

There was silence as they both looked at each other. A sense of rivalry lingered in the air and for a split second Hermione felt like she had at school. He was a Slytherin' and she desperately wanted to beat him – at everything and anything. She wanted to show the world that she was better then him. School rivalry was the only thing that hadn't seemed to have changed between them.

'So how is Plank?' Draco asked casually. 'I'm taking it you didn't just dress up for my benefit.'

'He's playing tonight, so he can't come,' he heart sunk slightly. 

'Oh. Too busy hitting a ball about to come and wish his girlfriend a Merry Christmas. Doesn't seem very tender if you ask me. I thought he was dedicated to you?' he muttered in obvious contempt of the man she loved. 'Or is it more of a case that he's playing away from home?'

Her hand itched to slap that look from his face, but her rational mind came into play. What would the students think if she started to hit their teacher? It wouldn't exactly give the impression she wanted. 'He's coming tomorrow first thing to make up for it, if you must know. Though it is none of your business Draco. Do I sense jealousy that I have someone else after years of hearing nothing from you?'

A grim smile tugged the corner of his mouth. 'I knew it would swing back round to this. I'll do you a deal, okay? I won't ask you annoying questions, if you don't too. We'll call it a truce…Christmas spirit almost.'

'You're willing to be nice to me in the name of Christmas spirit?!' she smiled at him in amusement. 'What happened to the Malfoy I know and…erm…you must be going soft.'

Draco nodded and dragged a hand through his hair. Instead of dressing up for the occasion, he had come in simple long black robes. His hair was loose for a change and hung about his face appealingly. To her he looked like a blonde version of Snape – just younger and more attractive. 

'So Hermione,' he said with a degree of restraint. 'Dance?'

'Dance…?' she asked and then realised how stupid she must have sounded. A red hue brushed her cheeks with its embarrassing blush. 

'Yes, I take it you can work out what that is?' he crossed his arms across his chest and regarded her. 'I was always under the impression you had a brain then again…'

'Stop,' she held up her hand to his mouth. 'Don't say another word.'

He smiled underneath her hand, and she removed it quickly at the contact of lips on flesh. Tucking her hands behind her back, she looked up at him. 'I don't think dancing is a good idea. It would give the pupils the wrong idea. They may think we're an item and I know neither of us want that.'

'Hmm. If you say so.' He paused. 'I think you're just scared that you'll stand on my feet like the clumsy oath you are.'

'I am not!'

'Prove it.'

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

They glared at each other for a couple of minutes before Draco grabbed her hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor.

_…but when touched by something different and unstable, they begin to fizz. The reaction takes place, merging them together so they are no longer two, but one being. Sometimes the outside world rebels them though, separating them with fire and water. Together they burn with passion in the cool of the water, trying desperately to cling together in the contradicting world. Will it last?_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Inclination**

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**Chapter Eight**

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_As Atlas held up the sky, so do you crave someone to support you. The world becomes too heavy, too quickly and you kneel into prayer. You pray to whatever is out there, listening – anyone will do. All you need is an epiphany. All you need is something to hold onto. Slowly you begin to drown…_

Once upon a time there had been a boy called Draco Malfoy. He had blonde hair, a sharp nose, grey eyes and an aristocratic jaw that made him look older than his years. Life had been easy. He'd woken up every morning, had breakfast, gone to school and then late at night slept like a baby. There had been nothing too complicated – just a routine that could easily be bent to his will.

Then there had been a girl. Not just any girl, but THE girl. The kind that makes a boy dream of sharing everything he has. Everything about her had altered his universe. Suddenly colour was more than colour itself. 

Romance had been too easy, tangling them up in a world of teenage angst. They had been caught up in a whirlwind of stolen kisses and meaningful looks. It had felt like real magic, transcending everything they had ever felt before. This was shiny, new and beautiful.

The end came though with a bitter chill. They couldn't stay together in a reality that hated them. Everything seemed at odds with a love that, to them, was unbound by the laws of physics, biology, and chemistry. So they had separated.

That was the exact same time that everything began to complicate itself around the boy. One day he'd woken up and found that he was no longer allowed the innocence of youth. Draco Malfoy was a man and he would have to fight head on to stay alive. Living in the past was too painful a thought to survive by, so he had discarded the notion of love. Instead he would work himself to the bone.

Time passed turning the present to the past. 

Not only did the man lose his childhood and the girl, but his mother. It had been a harsh blow, which had knocked him off his knees. His pride lay in shards around him, as he'd clasped his hands in front of him and cried himself dry. Narcissa's death had been the funeral of his hope. The house was no longer a home which he felt welcome in. 

Draco couldn't bring back his dead mother though. It hurt that everything didn't stop and grieve for her. There was just a brief hiccup where everyone looked in on the family. They would see the grieving son and the heartless father, then turn away. Earth kept turning. 

There had been the dark mark, the pain, the death. None of it seemed to reach past his defences though. His work was a job that had to be done. The only personal involvement he had in it was the thrill of vengeance.

'I'm not sure this is such a good idea…' whined the soft voice to the left of his ear. 'People might get the wrong idea…'

Draco smiled to himself. It was the kind of thing someone said when they were nervous. He liked the fact that he had this affect on Hermione – making her question herself. It was a brilliant power trip. 

Turning to face her, he released her hand and smiled a predator smile. 'It's a little late now,' he said in soft arrogance as he grabbed her waist, pulling her flush up against him. 

It had been a long time since Draco had felt someone this close to him. There had been women, those poor wretches that felt they were the one for him. They would stand battering their eyelashes, twittering like birds, and all the time hoping that they would be chosen above all the others. Well, there had been times where a Malfoy wasn't too picky. Without a shadow of a doubt, he had used every single one of them as a release. Sex was sex, and there were some things a growing man needed.

Never though had his conquests lived up to his expectations. They were weak, feeble and needy. They were the kind of women who wanted to cosy up next to him when he was finished, and coo in his ear about how wonderful it had been. Hopefully they saw the whole picture when he stood up coolly, dressed and left without leaving any hope of further communication.

Draco Malfoy the womaniser and bastard extraordinaire.

This was different though. Liaisons would come and go, but love was something a little more difficult to shake off. Hermione Granger had been the girl of his dreams in every sense of the word. She was the first, and probably only, woman he had committed to entirely. During his last months in Hogwarts, she had been the object of his happiness and despair. Leaving her could have been the biggest mistake of his life, but she needed to be free. 

When Narcissa had died, it had been Hermione that he had prayed to. Never had he admitted it, but she was the closest thing to a saviour he had ever seen. Her love was a force to be reckoned with and it forgave all. She was a comfort within the eye of the storm. No higher entity would ever embody her earthy love of life.

He knew that this was wrong. Again he was allowing himself to become caught up in that old tune. At this moment in time though, he couldn't seem to care enough to let go. This moment had been a long time coming. Even those who deserved nothing should be allowed indulgence in a dream.

'I think you're a little too close…' Hermione mumbled sheepishly.

'Shut up Granger,' Draco said wrapping his arms round her waist. 'For once just relax. We're too consenting adults, dancing to pass the time. What's so wrong with that?'

'The question is, what's right with that?' she replied with a hint of venom to her tone. 'When you said dancing, I didn't expect to be this close to your groin!'

His fingers gently brushed her hip, as his other went to feel the exposed skin on her back. 'I remember a time when you wouldn't have minded being this close.'

'That was a long time ago.'

'Do you regret it?'

Hermione remained silent, moving her head to rest on his shoulder. Her body seemed to relax a little as they danced in slow turns, and she became accustomed to the close proximity. Still she refused to answer the question, which annoyed Draco somewhat. It was almost as if she wanted to pretend they had never existed. 

'Sometimes,' she whispered into his shoulder. 'When I remember what it felt like to be left, then I like to forget. I had to move on.'

'I know.'

A sigh escaped her lips, and her arms moved up to circle his neck. 'Do you regret it?'

'Not once,' he replied softly, not wanting to say it too loud in case anyone heard. 'It could possibly have been the best moments of my life.'

Hermione moved her head and looked into his eyes. They were searching for something, like the hint of sarcasm or creeping of a lie. It was probably the last thing she wanted to hear, especially now. Not only was she spoken for, but she was stood in the middle of school, surrounded by kids who looked up to her. Wasn't Christmas the time for sharing though?

'I'm sure there have been better times…' Hermione whispered, never breaking eye contact. 'Our time together was brief, to say the least. We weren't exactly happy at the time, what with sneaking about and lying to our friends.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that what you did? I don't remember ever having to sneak around or lie to my friends. I also wasn't the one who pretended to fancy their best friend, in an attempt to get over me,' he said gently, with an air of a chill about his tone. 'As I recall it, you were the one acting like a Slytherin'.'

A red hue tainted Hermione's cheek in an angry flush. 'This is what you call a truce? Telling me all the mistakes I made, and not mentioning any of your own! It takes two to tango you know.'

'I would keep your voice down if I were you,' Draco drawled with a hint of menace. 'That is if you want to keep this our little secret?'

Her mouth became a thin line, with her eyes narrowing at him. 'Don't worry. I wouldn't want people knowing that I gave you the best moments of your life.'

A smile tilted his lips wearily. These were the games he liked best – each one trying to better the other in a flurry of harsh words. What used to happen afterwards was always better though. They would kiss long and hard, until they itched to be closer then their clothes allowed them. Happy, long, lost memories.

'Maybe we should take this conversation somewhere else,' he whispered in her ear, allowing himself to look at her neck. 'I can see you're getting a little hot under the collar, so to speak.'

'I don't think so,' she said coolly. 'I wouldn't want to tarnish your good reputation.'

'Ten minutes is all I need. We need to talk about this…' Draco continued to lull into her ear, rubbing his hand over her back in a circular motion, dipping lower. 

'Ten minutes?' 

'Ten minutes.'

Hermione pulled away from him, her head tilted to one side. He knew she was summing up whether he would try something. It was too easy to fool her into thinking he wanted to talk. What he really wanted to do was be alone with her so he could kiss her, away from all these prying eyes. Maybe if he did that he would be able to flush her out of his system. 

'Okay. Ten minutes. Nothing more, understood?' she said with a determined glint to her eye. 

'Understood.'

This was exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing. Weasley had told him under no certain terms were he to touch Hermione. It was a danger to the mission. It was a danger to her wellbeing. Of course she was right when she'd said all of this. Being close to Hermione had a way of making Draco lose all sense of reality. Instead of being cautious though, he followed other parts of his body. There were some things that were beyond his control.

Soon they were wandering down a corridor, towards the school exit. She obviously didn't want to be anywhere where he could take advantage. All that trust that he had gained whilst at school had been lost by time. There was no way she was going to take his word as being the truth. Or maybe it was because she didn't trust herself with him…

Reaching forward, Draco grabbed her arm and spun her round. 'This will do. After all, we are working and it wouldn't be good for us to stray too far from the flock. Who knows what they might get up to?'

That was when he realised something. Hermione was scared. Her entire body looked so crumpled now she was away from the prying eyes. No longer was there a sparkle to her eyes, but the weary look of age. She looked tired and frustrated. Most of all she looked nervous, which made him frown.

'What's wrong?' he asked softly, reaching out and brushing a finger over her cheek. 

'I…' she stumbled on her words. 'I can't do this anymore.'

'Do what?' 

'This,' she motioned between them. 'I can't pretend that there's nothing between us. The problem is that I want to believe there isn't. This is too much pressure on me… I thought that if I just forgot, then I wouldn't have to remember. Does that make sense?'

'Not really,' he said in a casual tone, shoving his hands into his pockets. 'Unless you're trying to say you still want me bad.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Get over yourself! I don't want you "bad", as you so eloquently put it. I just can't pretend that we have a past. Being near you makes me…uncomfortable.'

Did he want her to feel uncomfortable around him? Maybe that was what he wanted all along. Draco wanted to get under her skin, make her remember what they had had together. He'd wanted to push her into feeling for him again. After everything he'd been through, he wanted his faith back – wanted to believe in someone again. 

'That isn't exactly my fault Granger,' he said with a raised eyebrow, wanting to seem uninvolved with what she was confessing. 

'It is your entire fault!' she said with force, stamping her foot like a spoilt child. 'Why on earth did you have to get a job here? Now? When I'm so close to moving on to a better life?' 

'A job is a job. I can't help it if my services were needed here. Or would you prefer that the students of Hogwarts didn't learn potions?' Draco asked, his patience beginning to slip. Why did the woman have to be such a pain?

'Draco…' she whispered as she looked down at the ground.

'Back to familiarity now, are we?' 

Hermione took a step closer to him, turning her face to look up at him. 'I'm tired of fighting.'

Suddenly, she was closer then he'd expected, her body brushing temptingly close to his own. Her face was creeping nearly to his, and his rational thoughts seemed to fly out of the window. He couldn't quite fathom what was happening. Hermione had gone from angry to…whatever this was, very quickly. 

Their lips touched gently, a spark flying between them at the contact.

Moments passed slowly, like the slow opening of a flower at the end of winter. Yet at the same time things were actively fast. Hermione had her arms wrapped round his neck, kissing him in frenzy. Not that Draco minded – in fact he was in exactly the same state of drugged passion. 

It had been a long time since he'd felt this free and alive. His mouth roamed her mouth, plundering it with a force, as she made little noises to drive him crazy. Her hands had moved to his chest, and were fisted in his closed robes, pulling him close and holding him there. Draco's hands had made themselves busy with her body. He trailed them over everything he could possibly touch, just trying to find some stability in the way he was feeling. 

'Draco,' Hermione whispered, breaking away from the kiss abruptly. 'We can't do this.'

'Why not?' Draco questioned. 

'I have a boyfriend. A partner. Someone I can rely on more then anything else. I can't do this to him…to us,' she continued to whisper, her eyes glancing up and down the corridor. 'Us, we're in the past. We're just memories…'

'Then why did you kiss me?' 

'I did not kiss you! You kissed me!' she screeched indignantly, letting go of his shirt as if just realising she was holding it in the first place. 

Draco shrugged, leaned forward and kissed her neck with soft butterfly-like kisses. He wasn't going to fight with her. All he wanted was for them to be closer then they were. Personally he couldn't see where the complication lay. If she wanted Draco for a quick fling, that was fine with him. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and he knew she wouldn't want a relationship. For one thing there were too many secrets.

'Stop it,' she whispered without force or conviction. 'We can't do this. Not again.'

'One night,' he replied. 'It's Christmas. No one would ever have to know. We could just pretend we were young again. We could pretend we still loved each other like we used too. Just for one night…'

'It's never just one night with you,' Hermione said as she pushed him away. 

'At least I know what I want, which can't be said for you,' he bit angrily. 'The day you decide what you want will probably be the one I die.'

'Please…don't toy with me like this…' she whined appealingly. 

'Do you want me Hermione?' he asked in a seductively soft tone. 

'Maybe.'

'Then I can't see how one night together would hurt.' Of course it'll hurt, he added silently. It would be like dying to lose her again, but he couldn't risk giving up. What if there was a chance he could make this work…against all odds.

'One night…?' she asked, her eyes pleading with him to give up.

'One night.'

Hermione nodded to herself. 'One night it is then.'

_…surrounded by air. There's nothing physical left to claw to, but an undying faith lingers in the waves of silence. It's almost like poetry the way your thoughts jumble together. Atlas held up the skies, the heavens and the world, but never your burden. Then one night you'll realise, like an angel, that you're alive. Begin to breath, held up by love's sweet light. _


	9. Chapter Nine

**Inclination**

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**Chapter Nine**

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_There is a general theory that what makes us who we are, are the connections we have to the people around us. From parents to friends, lovers, companions – they all affect us in different ways. It is from their existence that we derive our own. From them we subconsciously learn how to live. This learning is not simply what is socially right and wrong, but how to know ourselves. The right to individuality is precious…_

Just one night, Hermione thought looking up at the ceiling silently. There was something about those words that removed the real consequences of her actions. It implied an offhand approach, as if it didn't matter what had occurred. What those words meant though were excuses.

Just one night – It was a terrible mistake.

Just one night – I'm sorry I hurt you.

Just one night – It meant nothing to me.

Just one night – Please don't leave me.

Just one night – You're the one I love…

Hermione closed eyes tight and took a steadying breath. This was not what she wanted to feel. Her insides were knotted in uncomfortable dread, making her throat ache from the hysteria she was trying to keep at bay. What had she done?

The answer to that question was simple enough and if she thought about it logically it didn't hurt too much. Hermione Granger (it helped further to think it in the third person) had committed an act of adultery. It was physical, impulsive and oblique. It was everything about herself she hated.

Another deep breath to steady the nerves that were beginning to shake her from the fantasy. She had learnt from a young age that trying to ignore the obvious was damaging in many ways. Denial, it would appear, could kill. Maybe not your body, but your soul – if you believed there was such a thing, which was debatable in this case. If Hermione did have a soul, then surely she wouldn't have cheated on the man she knew she loved?

There had been no doubt in Hermione's head that she loved Oliver. She liked the way he was completely dedicated to her. It was as if she had her own genie or fairy godmother. That one special person who would make sure her life was the fairytale she wanted. A fairytale was all it was though because when it came to reality, Hermione had a problem convincing her heart that Oliver was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Of course there were the perks. Oliver was successful, good looking, kind, generous… He was everything she'd look for in a man. Perfection was the closest word she could think of that matched her relationship with him. If they were ever to marry she knew that he would look after her to the end of the earth. With him she would be paramount. Special. Unique. Wanted. Wasn't that what every woman wanted from her partner?

Passion, she thought with the slightest of smiles. That was the vital ingredient that was missing. There was nothing wrong with the sex but it lacked that spark she had with Draco. Oliver never argued with her. He never pushed her to her limits, making her feel emotions in such an extreme that she clung to it for dear life. When she was with him she felt bland. Her flesh felt almost dead without feeling. Nothing seemed to excite her. Everything was…nice.

It was a terrible word to use.

'Just one night,' she whispered softly.

That one night had changed everything for Hermione. It had been the night that she had lost her certainty in herself. If she could betray Oliver then it could be possible that her heart was betraying her.

Draco had led her upstairs, gripping her hand so tight that it hurt. Her fingers had been crushed together in his hand as if mere flesh were not enough to prevent his desire. That had been the moment when she'd remembered just how explosive Draco really was. His cool exterior betrayed the hot headed emotions that boiled up within him. Not that she had complained. The pain had been a feeling – it had awoken her senses.

He had been moving so quickly…she couldn't remember if they were running or not, but she remembered her heart racing. Everything she was feeling seemed to reach such a degree of clarity that it was too vivid to seem real. And it was the details of her own journey that blocked out the rest.

It was difficult to put into words, that feeling like you're betraying yourself – becoming a fool in the eyes of your equally foolish partner. The feeling that giving in made you too easy a conquest and that it was unacceptable. The feeling that you are over analysing everything and adding in the negative so you don't feel happy. Yes, that desire to be miserable because you should…

In reality it felt like being caught out in the rain without an umbrella. Obviously this was not to be taken literally, but romantically. Hermione had been able to feel everything. There had been a grin on her face that nothing could have torn away. Like the rain it hadn't been constant, but different and fast moving. Every drop had its own individual presence, but collectively they were one.

It was like drinking cold lemonade when you're sat out in the heat. Chilling, relieving, delightfully tasty – making her feel dizzy with the overwhelming conflictions between her body and her mind.

It was as satisfying as popping bubble wrap.

As beautiful as lying on your back in the long grass and staring up at the stars.

Powerful as…

Rolling on her side, Hermione allowed herself to gaze out the window. She desperately wanted to forget what had happened. If she forgot all about it then she could go on as usual. There would be no heart stopping gazes in the corridor, shattering guilt, lies, wanting something she wasn't allowed. It had happened before and she remembered the fear. Those where the days when she hadn't been herself.

Draco had been so demanding. Having practically broken her delicate hand, he held it to his lips and kissed it lightly. An apology had been issued, but no words were needed. They had both known that if they'd spoken the spell would have been broken. Neither one of them wanted to give up their last chance.

It had been magical the way he had read her mind, following her every thought to the letter. If she wanted to be kissed, she didn't have to ask.

The kissing had been what she'd missed the most when they'd broken up all those months ago. It was human contact, a sign that she was unique and special. She remembered it had been difficult to not feel unwanted in the face of its loss. All she'd wanted to have was someone who would treasure her.

Wasn't that what she had with Oliver?

'Did you sleep alright?' a soft voice came from behind her.

The sex had been amazing. There had been a bit of awkwardness at the beginning. He had unpeeled her clothing as if she was a Christmas present, and she had stood dumbly. It was beautiful watching him concentrate on her so utterly. Then he had kissed her from top to toe, taking care not to miss an inch of skin. Later she had realised that he was trying to map her out. That way he couldn't forget how she looked when she was his.

When it came to undressing him, she had slowly unbuttoned, disrobed, and discarded all his clothing. They had stood before one another naked. Bare, exposed, unclad, unclothed, unconcealed and undisguised. None of the words could do justice to how it had felt to be totally…complete.

Fragments ambushed her as she lay in bed. She had recollections of biting his shoulder, him raking his fingers down her back. There had been blood on the sheets – she couldn't remember who it belonged to. She had stubbed her toe on the heavy wooden leg of the bed. Draco had kissed it better. All the time there had been a smile on her face. He had groaned her name over and over again. _"I love you."_

Had she responded alike?

An arm slipped round her waist and the scent of masculinity filled her nostrils. Her back became warm with the heat of such close proximity. A shiver ran through her body, slow and deliberate.

'You seem very quiet this morning,' the voice continued softly. 'I thought you liked surprises.'

'I do,' she whispered blankly. Her eyes remained fixed on outside the window.

'I know this sounds really needy…' he paused and she could feel him reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. 'Let me try again. Last night I put myself on the line…did you not…I mean…'

'I'm just feeling tired.'

'Oh right…'

'Last night wasn't what I had expected. It wasn't the early night with a cup of coco and a good book I had anticipated…' Hermione closed her eyes. 'It was all a bit overwhelming.'

'You sound disappointed that it wasn't how you expected,' the voice teased gently in her ear. 'And here was me thinking I was much better then a good book. I mean it's not every day that…'

'I know,' she interrupted quickly.

Silence hung in the air. 'Well someone's obviously not in a good mood.'

Hermione turned over and looked at her companion. Her heart ached for a split second and began to race. Suddenly she felt like crying. His eyes were so soft and gentle, urging her to take him in her arms. It would be too simple though. Nothing could take away the taste she had got for Draco Malfoy.

'I'm sorry Oliver,' she said, brushing her fingers against his cheek and lightly kissing his forehead. 'I don't mean to be in a bad mood. It's just that I'm hormonal and…still in shock about the…the…'

'The fact I asked you to marry me?' Oliver said grinning like a fool.

'Yes, that.' Mentally Hermione gulped. She didn't have the conscience to say it out loud.

'I've been planning it for months,' Oliver began enthusiastically. 'I spoke to Dumbledore and he set up a portkey for me. He seemed very happy that I was finally going to make an honest woman of you.'

Honest woman, she thought cynically. If only he knew what she'd been doing last night – shagging her ex boyfriend whilst her current one sat waiting for her, ring in hand. There was something incredibly funny about the whole situation. It made her adultery worse.

'I didn't expect you to be so long though!' he laughed nervously. 'I was so anxious that I almost went home again. The waiting was killing me! Not that you're not worth it. I'd wait for you until the ends of the earth.'

Poor romantic fool. She couldn't help but pity his ignorance. Maybe it was Draco's influence. They were just words though. What she had felt last night had affected her so much that she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else.

'That's why I don't mind how long you take to answer. You can answer when you're old and grey if it suits you… Hey, just imagine us when we're old and grey! We can take long walks with our five dogs. Eat fish and chips until we feel sick. Keep each other warm when it's cold. We won't need anything but each other.'

The problem was not only that Hermione had cheated on mere hours ago, but that she doubted whether she still loved him. She couldn't see them as an old couple holding hands and being still in love after 70 odd years. She couldn't even see them together in a year's time. The lie would eat her up inside.

'Oliver…' she said wanting to tell him everything.

'Yes?'

_'Hermione?'__ Draco whispered against her shoulder. 'I think you've been very, very naughty.'_

_Hermione giggled like a child and batted him with her hand. 'Shut your face Malfoy. I'm as good as gold.'_

_He pointed to the bite mark on his shoulder. 'You've damaged my perfect skin,' he growled. 'And now you owe me.' His hand slipped over her stomach, going lower and making her heart race._

_'Aren't you tired?! I mean that was pretty…'_

_Leaning over he silenced her with a kiss. 'I could never get tired of shagging you senseless.'_

_'I was not senseless!'_

_'Want to bet?'_

'Nothing,' she said with a forced smile. 'I was just thinking.'

'About?'

'It wouldn't interest you…'

Hermione pushed herself up from the bed and stretched. Standing slowly, she walked over to her dressing table and started aimlessly brushing her hair, not taking her eyes off her own reflection. She didn't understand how she had the guts to lie in the same bed as the man she had just cheated on. She didn't understand how she could face herself…and yet the world was still turning. It all seemed so surreal.

After her and Draco had become too tired to move, she had suggested that she would have to go back to her own room. He had commanded that she stay in his room until the whole night was over, otherwise she was chickening out. Basically he baited her into anger, and laughed when she reacted. With her face flushed and her body sore, she had slowly dressed herself. It was Christmas after all and she didn't want to miss all the presents. Or at least that's what she told herself. The real reason was that she knew she wouldn't be able to ever leave if she didn't know. Draco was dangerous in many ways.

Then when she'd returned to her room, after a long goodbye, she found Oliver sitting on the edge of her bed. She had been unable to hide her shock. Even when he rushed over to her and dropped to one knee, she had been almost unable to breath. All she'd been able to do was think about what she had done.

_'When will I see you again?'_

_'What happened to "just one night"?' Hermione demanded, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. 'This is a one off Draco. Nothing more.'_

_'We both know you're lying. You can't keep your hands off me for more then a couple of weeks. I think we've proven that here.' Draco was leaning on one elbow, sprawled naked on the bed, his long blonde hair looking dishevelled. 'I'm irresistible.'_

_'You are an arrogant pig,' she said primly. _

_'True, but when will I see you again?'_

_'Stop it!' she beseeched. 'This is not going to happen again! I'm with Oliver and that's the way it's going to stay.'_

_'I don't know if I can share you with another man.'_

'I'm so happy,' Oliver muttered throwing himself into the pillows behind him. 'I must be the luckiest man on the planet.'

A tear slowly cascaded down Hermione's cheek.

_…but how much will you sacrifice to remain an individual? Love changes everything. It changes how you see the world. Utterly painful and completely dreamy, love is the thing that makes us conform. It is the force that makes us act like fools. All you need is love…?_


	10. Chapter Ten

****

Author's Note: I am feeling a little romantically tragic and needed to expel it as best I can! So sorry if this chapter does not live up to my previous standards. Also an apology for taking so long.

****

Inclination

Chapter Ten

__

Empty of reason, void of logic, we wander through the tangled path of love blind. No longer does the detail of the overall picture matter. We become consumed by the colours; vivid, bright, overwhelming. They fill our senses making us mad with blemished feeling. Blind with eyes wide open…

****

'As I recall this is exactly what I didn't want to happen.'

'Nature does as nature will.'

'And what on earth is that supposed to mean? I specifically said that you were not to have any sexual liaisons with Hermione. In fact I also recall you saying that it would never happen. What kind of fool am I to believe you! I should have known that you would disregard everything we had discussed and be led around by your…your…' Ginny waved her hand in the direction of his groin dramatically. 'And if that wasn't enough instead of taking responsibility for your actions, you blame nature!'

'I can't help it if I have animal magnetism Weasley.'

'For Merlin's sake Malfoy! You're supposed to be taking this seriously!'

Draco leant back in his chair and smirked indiscriminately. 'I realise that you may find this difficult to believe, but I am a mortal man. Like mortal men there are certain things I cannot control. For example I can't make the sun rise an hour later or turn back the tide. In this instance I was unable to control my natural urge to repopulate with the nearest female. With this in mind I think you'll find that it's impossible to deal blame on anyone other than nature herself.'

'Cut the crap Malfoy. You…initiated physical relations because you are a conceited pig who has no concern for Hermione's well being,' Ginny snapped in a measured response. 'Seeing as we're talking about your inabilities as a human being I might as well mention that you are weak and inferior to the power of the Dark Lord. Whilst you were bidding natures will a bigger force could have come over you.'

'I'm fully aware of that.'

'Don't even think of telling me you have it all in hand.'

'Do I sense a touch of jealousy? Because there's plenty of me to go round Weasley…that is if Potter isn't doing it for you, of course,' he drawled with mock seriousness. 'Or maybe you'd prefer Blaise to service your needs.'

Ginny growled between gritted teeth. 'I have tried to be civil with you Malfoy but you are impossible. Is there nothing that can make you see the enormity of what you've just done?'

There had been times in Draco's life when life had been far from a bed of roses. One of the most vivid memories he had was of the time he had to prove himself a faithful Death Eater. Not many wizards had truly thought of the meaning of "Death Eater", but for Draco it had weighed on his mind since he was a small boy. As a follower of Voldemort he would have to eat death itself, allow it to consume him so he was death itself. Like the dead you became hollow of anything that could be described as wholesome or good. You lost the part of you that felt anything. Like a zombie you roamed through life despising everything beautiful around you. So Draco had to prove to everyone that he could be the bringer of death whilst remaining dead to everything himself. Even now he could feel the blood congealing around his fingers and the spatters that had intruded his taste buds. Even now he could hear the pleads of mercy echoing through his nightmares. Even now he could feel his stomach turn at the red heap that lay in front of him, no longer human.

All of this had taught Draco something; when the memories became actions of self harm, inflicting themselves upon him physically so he could feel their pain, he had to laugh. If he didn't laugh then he would die of one thing or another. Laughing allowed him to forget…allowed him to be at peace. How could something be so wrong if you could laugh afterwards?

A week had passed since he had spent the night with Hermione. A whole week of sitting solitary in his room and ignoring his own pulse. Just as it was difficult to forget you were alive, it was difficult to think of anything other than the passion. He had been overwhelmed by how he'd felt as she lay beneath him, enjoying him and pleasing him at the same time. An urge to protect her had come across him and now lurked beneath every thought he had. If only he could rescue her…but from what? Ultimately it was from himself and it was this truth that was beginning to tear his purpose apart.

'I can't take the past back Weasley,' Draco murmured softly. 'I can't go up to Hermione and ask her if I could take back the fantastic shag. What happened was beyond the tangible.'

Ginny remained silent for a moment and looked down at the papers on the table before her. 'Beyond the tangible? How tragic and romantic of you Malfoy. I suppose it makes all the difference if there is real feeling behind the whole thing.'

This had not been what he'd expected to hear from Ginny who was a self-confessed neurotic. He'd expected guilt lined fireworks and shouting that would penetrate the walls of Azkaban. 'Really?' he questioned with a frown.

'No. Not really!' she angrily shouted at him, rising from her seat. 'You have utterly screwed this whole mission up! It would have been better if you'd remained the cold-hearted bastard that we've always known you to be! But no, no, no. The great Draco Malfoy chose to be the dashing romantic hero that would sweep her off her feet in a…a…hurricane of "tangible" experiences! Now you're a sodding emotional…NUMPTY!'

Her face had become so red that Draco could no longer distinguish the freckles that were scattered across her face. Part of him wanted to laugh at this image, but the other part knew that the day Ginny called him a "numpty" was the day he'd really crossed the line with the Ministry.

After a couple of days had passed, and the joy of the event had faded into worry, he received a letter from Hermione. At first he had been reluctant to open it; he knew her too well and feared the eventual rejection when she came to her senses. He wanted her to want him in the same way he wanted her. No one had ever really wanted or needed him except her and she had become the cause. However he had always been a fatalist and hoped that he would be proved wrong. After seventeen hours he allowed the letter to breathe into life.

__

D,

I haven't seen you in two nights. I'm suffocating in my deceit and the only one I can talk to, the only one who understands me, is missing from my life. I'm an island. I won't say I need you, but I do need to be frank with you. This won't make much sense but I feel that if it did it would only hurt me more. He wants to marry me. He wants to be part of me. I can't breathe anymore. He's all smiles and declarations of love. But I can never again allow him to live in my rotting heart. I love he that is made of clouds even though I can never catch him in my hand. He will never be realised and that's why I aspire to his love. This other love is now foreign to me. What once was…once was we all are. Merlin, I can't make head nor tail of this whole letter and yet I need you to feel my thoughts.

Two nights have passed and I cannot stay awake. I know I'm in some waking sleep and only you can shake me of it. I wander the halls at night and wonder whether you'll pull me into some dark classroom and kiss me like you did the first time. Our past is so beautiful and strange and tragic. I can't escape it anymore and I don't want to. I hate the reality that I am. "Am" is such a strange word. Am I?

He wants to marry me. Me. This thing that I am. Am. How can I escape being what I am. It determines me so. I cheated him of the perfect love by giving in to the dream. He wants to marry something that doesn't exist. This person he thinks he's so lucky to be with is no longer connected. She's inaccessible. So who am I now she's gone? I feel you're the only one who can answer that. You always knew me even when you hated me. You see past all the disguises and I hate you for it.

Hate. Why do people never sign letters with hate instead of love? Surely such a strong emotion has some standing? I hate you because I love you. Two words entangled. They've become one. I can't even bring myself to dislike you!

I told him I slept with another man. He wants to forgive me. He wants to marry me. I can't make him hate me. He knows not of the love hate inspires. He asked me who and I said you, but not your name. I called you "the other man" and a "mistake" - anything to save myself from his love. Fool. That is who I am. I told the truth in reverse. He still wants to marry me.

You once told me that I was love. For a time I thought it was sentimental rubbish that meant something to an adolescent who felt more than his body had known. I was wrong. We meant it like we still mean it now. We're still crying in each others arms, and whispering in the dark. You were wrong too though. I am not love; this is what you are. I am hatred.

So I won't say that I need you. I won't say that I can't live without you. They are unspoken between us.

As I write this I know it is not the last time I will see you. It probably isn't the last time we'll speak, but I know that it's the last time we will be love and hate. Soon the two will become untangled. Isn't is funny that hate and love combined is "have"? We will never have one another again.

You walk in circles in my head still. Merlin I need you. I can't live without you. I'm a contradiction in terms without you.

Can I marry him? I need you to be my friend. No, my lover. Can I marry him?

H.

It was a breathe that shook a part of him he thought had been numbed by all the experiences he'd felt. Was it his heart or his soul that suddenly shivered within him? She was so completely vulnerable and exposed to heartache. He was the cause, just as she was his. They had become one person in her eyes and she could no longer tell which part of her was her. Whilst she seemed to know this as a fact, Draco knew that there was one thing standing between their union. The truth.

When he had taken her up to his room all he had been able to hear was the pounding of blood in his ear. He became oblivious to the surroundings or situation; suddenly he was eighteen again and they were fulfilling their teenage angst. Except it wasn't teenage anymore. They had both grown and things had happened that changed the whole experience. He had been desperate to keep the night forever by making her stay longer. It had dawned on him that time was outside his own reality where a single moment could be infinity.

All the while though there had been a dark cloud looming overhead. Voldemort could strike at any time forcing him to kill the one thing he wanted to exist. By not telling her the truth he had taken away her choice of life or death. If he had told her of the awful dreams he had about them together, would she have gone with him? Would she still love him? Have him?

'This is not about Hermione. This isn't even about you or me. This is about protecting a world who will never know they have been saved. We represent all that is good - maybe not pure good, or right good, but a good that wants life. If we fail now then there will be nothing left to live for,' her voice was soft and rebounded off the cold, hard walls of the dungeon. 'Do you want them to feel what you feel everyday?'

'I don't feel,' he said coldly. 'I simply exist.'

Ginny shook her head solemnly. 'There must be a reason why you do this.'

'And what if there isn't? Does that make my sacrifice worth any less?' he looked at her questioningly. 'Maybe for me it's simply a means of surviving? It's this or be constantly chased by auror's who want to lock me up in Azkaban. This makes my evil deeds seem…credible.'

He had expected the visit from Ginny from the moment Hermione had left the room. There was no doubt in his mind that Dumbledore had allowed them to bug his room in order to maintain the high security of Hogwarts. They had probably watched the whole thing. What he hadn't expected was for the visit to come so long after the event. It was probably pity. Better let the poor bugger have a few days of moping before we send him to his death.

Ginny had been an ally since he had helped her in the last year of Hogwarts. When they had started working together he had thought of seducing her, making her part of him, but he had been able to betray Hermione with someone she knew. Instead he'd decided to become the closest thing he could to a friend. He had bought her a present for every birthday and Christmas and even done some of her missions for him. In essence she had become his touchstone. Now though he knew he was going to have to abandon her.

'There's something I must do before I leave,' he said sternly, looking her straight in the eye. 'And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm referring to. I know that you will have been duty bound to report my error to the Order and the Ministry. I have put the mission in jeopardy, even I can not deny that. I will go quietly, I won't even complain, but you must allow me to speak to her before I go.'

'Malfoy…' she faltered. 'I shall be straight with you. The Ministry are outraged by your audacity and lack of respect for their ruling. They have ordered that you be sent out to replace Snape as the mole.'

'Fudge didn't even have to try and corrupt me,' Draco said with a cold chuckle.

'He is the one who swayed the Ministries ruling. The argument is that you are putting civilians at risk. Blaise has been called for and will arrive tomorrow,' she paused. 'None of us want this Draco.'

'I'll be dead by the end of the week.'

'The Order has been fighting this decision ever since the incident…'

'Do you think she'll go to my funeral?' he looked down and toyed with the end of his robe. 'Or maybe they won't be able to find enough parts of me to bury…'

'We have tried everything to get in contact with Snape. Even Dumbledore is starting to give up hope on his returning. There was even mention of involving Harry in tracking him down. In the end it came down to whether they send you…or him,' her voice started to shake slightly with emotion. 'They said you had more skills.'

'Heaven forbid they should lose precious Potter,' he muttered bitterly. 'Better send a real man.'

'We've also tried to lessen your chances of being exposed. Dumbledore's trying to organise a reason for him sacking you…'

'The moment they know I'm beyond these walls, I'm dead. They aren't stupid Weasley. My father will know that the Ministry are sending someone out after Snape and my arrival will be too obvious a coincidence. Don't worry yourself about it though. This is not your fault,' Draco looked up suddenly. 'This is my own fault. I knew this would happen. Maybe that's why I did it.'

As he looked at Ginny's face, he could see the tears welling in her eyes. She could see past all the official crap; he was not going to survive.

'It's a good job you're so expendable then, isn't it?' she sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

__

…we are stranded upon the rim of reality. Fantasy and certainty become lost in the hearts desire to attain happiness. We risk it all. Our fingertips graze the starlight's smoulder, our souls fill themselves with enchantment and we reach nirvana. Yet the wintry stone of self-preservation shatters the dream. To love is to truly hurt…


End file.
